


A Trip Into A Dream

by WeirdChick333



Category: Last Shadow Puppets, Milex - Fandom
Genre: Idiots in Love, Love, M/M, References to Arctic Monkeys, Slow Build, TLSP - Freeform, The Last Shadow Puppets - Freeform, alex turner - Freeform, miles kane - Freeform, milex - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 167,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21704935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdChick333/pseuds/WeirdChick333
Summary: What if Miles and Alex never hit it off as friends?What if, after thirteen years of never-ending arguments and fights, they suddenly see each other in a different light?What if sex gets in the way?And why must love make things so complicated?
Relationships: Miles Kane/Alex Turner
Comments: 187
Kudos: 369





	1. Same Old Story

**2006**

_“Great show, guys!”_

_“Awesome! When’s the big tour?”_

_“We love you!”_

“Your D sounded flat.” 

_Alex Turner looked up as he made his way off stage. He and his band, the Arctic Monkeys, had just finished playing their set. The club was loaded. The audience was raucous. They had fans now. And not just a few! They were finally getting somewhere. Their label had sprung for additional studio time to record more songs, their debut record was selling well and if things kept going stellar, their first tour would begin soon._

_All of this should put him in a good mood. But, as he walked past fans and cheering people, he heard that one comment that instantly ruined everything._

“Your D sounded flat.” 

_As though he didn’t know. But they had arrived late, there had been no time to rehearse, which meant he’d been unable to tune his guitar as he usually did before any kind of performance, and therefore his electric’s D had sounded flat._

_What kind of nitpicking dickhead needed to point out something like that after a great show? It had been a guy, that Alex had been able to hear. The rude commenter had a very distinct voice. Alex would remember it for a long while, no doubt! Had that guy come just for the D-chord? All the other chords had sounded just fine! Every other member of the band had played an exceptional set. Alex, himself, had played exceptional, as well. It wasn’t arrogance to say that. It was a fact._

_Moron!_

_Glancing around the people near him, Alex tried identifying the guy who had said it, but there was nobody who looked asshole enough to call attention to something so completely unnecessary, so utterly unimportant, so totally…true. He looked harder. And saw no one._

_It bothered him that he didn’t know who had spoken those words. It bothered him that somebody else was equally picky about the perfect sound, it angered him that somebody else had heard what Alex had heard, too, every time he’d strummed that fucking chord, it infuriated him that somebody had the audacity to point out what Alex didn’t need anyone else to point out because he had ears and could hear just fine!_

_Yes._

_His D had sounded flat._

_So fucking what, asshole?_

_Arriving backstage, Alex grabbed a bottle of water and drank some. The other band members barreled into the room, giddy and excited._

_“All those fans!” the drummer exclaimed beamingly. “It’s insane!”_

_“It’s fucking crazy,” expressed the bass player._

_“It’s fucking amazing,” corrected their guitar player._

_“My D sounded flat.” Alex spun around to find three young men staring back at him in shock. “What? It did! And people heard it!”_

_“Your D…” Jamie, the guitarist, shook his head. “Alex, you’re crazy! Nobody noticed.”_

_His eyes widened. “But you’re not disagreeing. Which means you heard it, too. And I know that the fans heard it, ‘cause someone just told me so!”_

_“Somebody told you that your D sounded flat?” Jamie looked at Matt, the drummer, and laughed. “I think he finally lost it!”_

_“Gone for good,” agreed Matt._

_“Assholes everywhere,” decided Alex as left for a smoke._

_By the time Alex got back, the small room was filled to the lid with people. Strangers, most of them. And he hated it. Tight spaces and crowded rooms made him feel uncomfortable. He needed air to breathe, room to inhale, or, at the very least, he needed enough space to actually take a few steps to be able to walk into it. He could hardly see the wall across the room. Which was greatly vexing, since all the drinks were on the that side._

“Liked the last song. Great drum parts!” 

_That voice._

_Alex sharpened his gaze, glanced around, but there were too many people, too many faces, too many voices to find the one he was looking for. “Come on,” he muttered to himself. “Say something else.”_

_“Say what?” asked Jamie._

_“What?” Alex squinted, refocused. “Not you. That voice.”_

_Jamie took half a step back and placed a hand on Alex’s back. “Dude, I’m beginning to worry about you. That’s the second time you’re hearing voices tonight.”_

_Alex rolled his eyes as he slapped his guitarist’s hand away. “Fuck off, will you? I’m not an idiot. I’m not hearing voices. I did hear a voice. A single, very specific one. And I’m trying to find out whose voice it is!”_

“Let’s go for a smoke.” 

_There it was. Alex stood taller, rigorously looking for anyone who was getting ready to leave the room, to go for that smoke. But nothing happened._

_Until—_

_“Hey, Miles!” Jamie greeted somebody wearing a seventies haircut and a leather jacket._

_“Jamie, long time, man!”_

_That voice. It was him. Alex watched in fascination as the guy chatted with Jamie. Until the latter decided to introduce him._

_“Have you met?” Jamie asked, pulling on Alex’s arm, dragging him closer. “I don’t remember. Anyway, that’s Alex Turner. Alex, that’s Miles Kane!” Somebody else called for Jamie and the guitarist left, leaving Alex to stare at the owner of that rude, condescending voice that had so carelessly ruined his post-gig buzz._

_“Miles, was it?” Alex pressed his lips into a thin line. “You didn’t like the way my D sounded. I heard you say it after the show.”_

_“Well,” spoke Miles as a slow smile tugged on his lips. “Could have tuned your guitar better. Great set, though! Jamie told me you write all the songs. You’re insanely talented!”_

_“I know that,” replied Alex dryly, disregarding politeness and humility. “I was pressed for time. Had to hurry. It wasn’t necessary for you to point out that my D sounded flat. I knew it long before you so rudely spoke your mind.”_

_The smile fell from Miles’ face as he crossed his arms. One brow raised, he snorted. “Cocky, huh? I wonder why. Your voice was shallow, your tempo could have been better and next to your D, every other chord fell flat as well.”_

_Scoffing, Alex ticked his jaw. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was talking to Jimi Hendrix himself!”_

_“I doubt he would disagree with me.”_

_Unbelievable! In all of his life, Alex had never met a person more infuriating, more arrogant, more conceited, and more argumentative than this one! That is, except himself. But that was beside the point. “Jimi would probably congratulate me for my unique writing style and my band’s rising success.”_

_“He’d laugh at your ego, that’s for sure!” Miles let his eyes roam up and down Alex’s entire body, giving him the strangest notion of feeling exposed. Once done, Miles cocked his head to the side. And grinned. “How small are you? One sixty?”_

_Alex began to pulsate with fury. That aggravating air of superiority, which surrounded Miles, was sucking all levelheadedness right out of Alex’s lungs. “One eighty,” he snapped._

_“On high heels,” laughed Miles._

_“Son of a—”_

_Jamie returned, squeezed Alex’s shoulder and smiled. “Miles is awesome, isn’t he? Has his own band. You should hear him on the guitar. Almost rivals me!”_

_“Doubt that,” bit Alex out. Miles met his eyes with a daring expression, baiting him to elaborate. And Alex was only too happy to deliver. “From the looks of it, you’re more familiar with hair care products than electric guitars. And even there, you could use some after school tutoring. Your inability to hear a well-tuned instrument tells me everything there is to know about your prowess on the guitar and the fact that you’re so very fascinated with my size lets me make all sorts of guesses about your own issues with that.” Alex turned towards Jamie. “I’m done with that prick. I’m headed home. Have a nice night.”_

**Present Day**

Thirteen years later and Alex was still annoyed by his guts. As he stood side stage, watching, while Miles was finishing his set, Alex couldn’t help himself. He despised that guy! There was such an arrogance to him, such an intolerable aura of lordliness. Even thinking about it, Alex’s blood began to boil. Jamie jokingly called it an allergy. Accused him at every given opportunity of it and claimed that he was allergic to Miles’ indifference towards him. 

It wasn’t that. 

Alex couldn’t be happier if Miles actually were indifferent towards him. 

But he wasn’t. 

Miles was anything but that. He was always making remarks about him, snide little comments that hit straight where it hurt – his ego. And he’d laugh. Or, rather, smirk. Sassily. As if there was anything smirk-worthy about Alex! Miles loved making Alex’s temper flare and he enjoyed every goddamned second of it! 

And the worst part? For some twisted, insane reason, they ran into each other constantly. Whatever festival Alex’s band played; Miles played there as well. If Alex got invited to a party, who would he run into? Miles. They shared the same set of friends and acquaintances. They even shared the same fucking fitness studio! The latter part, Alex should find fortunate. Ever since running into Miles at that place, he’d begun taking working out much more seriously and it showed. His girlfriend rather enjoyed his muscles. 

Miles’ song came to an end. He’d never admit it to him, but Alex did consider Miles a stellar guitar player. He thoroughly enjoyed his music. And he happened to know, by sheer coincidence, that Miles felt equally about Alex’s abilities on the guitar and his work in general. For reasons that he couldn’t name, even if pressed, because he simply didn’t know why, Alex kept watching Miles perform. There was something about his presence on stage, his way of taking all that energy from the audience and channeling it into a fantastic show, that drew Alex in. 

Miles directed his eyes to his side, caught Alex staring, and winked. 

Bloody asshole. 

“My baby!” 

Alex turned slightly, inconspicuously, towards the female voice behind him. His curiosity was, forever, getting the best of him. 

Oh. 

Miles’ girlfriend. 

So, he hadn’t winked at him, realized Alex. Miles had winked at his girlfriend. What a relief! Right? What an odd feeling that was, that strange sense of disappointment that spread in his chest. He couldn’t possibly be disappointed that Miles hadn’t winked at him, could he? Not that it had even been a genuine wink. Well, it had been, since it had been meant for his girlfriend, but if it had been a wink directed at Alex, then it would not have been one. It would have been a mocking, a playful, a teasing one and Miles would have only done it to mess with him. Why would Alex want him to mess with him? That would be ridiculous! What a ludicrous idea. Alex brushed it off and turned around, intending to leave, only, he accidentally bumped into Miles’ girlfriend who had somehow come to stand right behind him. 

“Watch it, Turner!” 

“Sorry!” Alex held his hands up apologetically. “I did not see you standing there. Right behind me,” he added. 

The girl, whose name Alex knew, because people had mentioned it to him, but couldn’t remember for the life of him, huffed. “What are you doing here, anyway? Don’t you and Miles hate each other?” 

Hate was such a strong word. And it implied deep emotions. A shared past. A vivid history. He didn’t hate Miles. He just didn’t care about him…passionately. Okay, maybe he felt a slightly ungrounded, unreasonably strong animosity towards him. But whatever it was, it was firmly between him and Miles and nobody else’s business. It was not something he intended to discuss with people. Least of all Miles’ girlfriend. 

“I’m leaving. Forget you even saw me, okay?” 

“I would,” she snapped, “but you ran into me so hard I might end up with a bruise.” 

“I did not—” Alex bit his tongue from saying anything more. Whatever he might have said next, it doubtlessly would have made it worse. “Again. Sorry.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

Alex’s whole body tensed up, all his muscles, all his limbs became tight and aware. Miles had obviously finished playing his set and now stood behind him. But that wasn’t the worst part. 

Miles had his hand on Alex’s back. It was the first time, as far as Alex could recall, that they were actually touching, except for a few wayward moments of unintentional contact when in the company of other people. But this was a real touch. A lasting one, too. Time was passing but Miles’ hand remained in place. Right between his shoulder blades. Fingers spread. Just resting there. Alex had trouble breathing. He felt a searing heat seeping into his skin precisely where their bodies connected. Maybe Miles’ hand was poisoned. 

“Turner, what’s happening?” asked Miles. 

As he was startled out of his state of irritation, Alex noticed that Miles asked him, not his girlfriend, for a rundown of events. Odd, wasn’t it? Was it? “Nothing’s going on. I was just leaving. I accidentally stumbled into your girl. I apologized. That’s it.” 

Miles’ girlfriend huffed, again, as she spun around towards her friends, walking off with them. “Stumbled hard,” Alex heard her muttering. 

He groaned. At least she was gone now! He became aware, again, of Miles’ hand, which still pressed against his by now no doubt scorched skin. Alex stepped away from him jerkily, whirling around to face him. But he couldn’t say anything. He hadn’t planned on staying around to speak with him. They never talked. They only ever exchanged insults and bantered savagely. He wasn’t sure what to do now and remembered what his mother had taught him when he was young. 

_When you have nothing important to say, say something nice instead._

So, he did that. “Good show.” 

Miles blinked, stunned, clearly. “Was that a compliment?” 

There they went. Again. The guy could never let anything go, could he? “The polite reply would have been a simple ‘thank you’.” 

“My mistake,” apologized Miles. “I was too shocked for polite replies. You’ve never said a nice thing to me in the decade that we’ve known each other!” 

“Thirteen years,” corrected Alex and mentally slapped himself hard. Why did he have to do it? Why did he always have to have the last word with Miles? 

The man smiled arrogantly now. Just like he always smiled. “You counted? Awww. That’s sweet.” 

“Bite me,” tossed Alex back. 

Something flashed in Miles’ eyes. Something that Alex couldn’t define. He could see that Miles was tempted to reply, to volley something back at him, but whatever it was, it died on his lips as their eyes locked on each other. That layer of arrogance gradually vanished from his face and what remained confounded Alex even more. Was that a genuine smile? 

“Kane, great set!” Some woman appeared next to Miles and grabbed his arm. “Let’s hurry, interviews are waiting!” 

Miles didn’t say anything as he allowed himself to be pulled along. And Alex didn’t speak, either. He just watched him disappear. But, until the very end, their gazes were on each other. 

Once Miles was out of sight, Alex shook his head, snapped out of his daze, and made his way back to his band, who were preparing to play their own set later that night and who were more than a little angry when he got there. 

“We’re almost done with rehearsal, where the hell have you been?” 

“I was at—” He stopped. They wouldn’t understand, would they? If he explained to them that he’d gone to see Miles play, they wouldn’t believe him anyway. As far as the band was concerned, Alex and Miles hated each other’s guts. 

But that wasn’t true. 

Whatever it was, it was a lot more complicated. Alex respected Miles’ achievements, his talent, and his skills. He knew he worked hard, knew he tried his best to succeed in a world that was fundamentally opposed to allowing indie music to thrive. Miles was kind and polite and funny. All of that, Alex recognized. 

Only, whenever they met, they brought out each other’s worst attributes. The easiest thing in the world, for Alex, was to get lost in a senseless, inane discussion with Miles about something outright meaningless. And in a sick, warped manner, he enjoyed every last second of it, every time, ‘cause Miles always, always, gave as good as Alex delivered. It was an endless match of witty comebacks, the most random bits of trivia and a fierce desire to win a game that held no prize. 

It wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns, though. Alex could get furious at Miles’ arrogance, could be driven crazy by Miles’ inability to admit defeat. And the way in which that guy grinned? It made the hairs on Alex’s skin stand straight. 

But, again, he wouldn’t describe it as hate. More like chemistry. Just, not the usual kind that drew people towards each other. It was a different kind. A volatile kind that made it uneasy to resist each other but also impossible to not combust in close proximity. 

To explain that to his band, however, would be impossible. And, after what had happened minutes ago, Alex wasn’t altogether certain that his idea of his relationship with Miles was still entirely accurate. Maybe he’d missed something. Maybe he needed to redefine a few parts or reevaluate some. A genuine smile on Miles’ part simply didn’t fit into the box that Alex had built for them. 

“Sorry I’m late. Got sidetracked.” It wasn’t a lie. “Won’t happen again. Besides, we’ve been playing these songs for a while now. Do we really need to rehearse that much?” 

Matt scoffed hard. “You’re the one who made us rehearse this fucking much in the past, Al! For over ten years we’ve been trying to tell you that we can do just fine with less.” 

“Just fine is not who we are, though.” Alex grabbed his guitar, plugged it in. “We deliver perfection. Right down to the last note.” 

“Make up your mind then,” said Jamie. “Rehearse or not rehearse?” 

Alex switched the guitar on. “Rehearse.” 

\- 

He had played the song for what seemed like a million times and on every other day he’d be able to strum the strings and hit the chords in his sleep, drunk, while being hungover. 

But not tonight. 

‘Cause he was standing there. Side stage. Looking as smug as ever. Why was he there? Why was looking at him like that? What was it that made it impossible for Alex to look away and not notice him? 

He closed his eyes, grabbed the mic stand, walked to the front edge of the stage and belted the lyrics to their set topping song. And he kept his eyes close. He didn’t trust himself to not let his focus slither back, to the side, to him. He envisioned the notes of the song, knew them by heart since he’d written them himself, and played each chord in the manner in which he’d intended it. Then his job was done. The song, not quite yet. The rest of the band would finish with that while he remained at the mic, saying ‘thank you’ to the audience in the name of his band. Then the last notes drifted out. The lights went out. Set done. 

Alex still held on to the mic as it rested in its spot at the top of the stand and he sighed. He slowly glanced towards the side, where the rest of the band walked off to. 

Damnit. 

Miles was still there. 

Waiting for him. 

One last wave towards the audience and Alex made his way off stage. He was tempted to walk towards the other side, but he was just as tempted to find out why Miles was there. One day his curiosity would no doubt be the death of him. A few strides and he was at his side, not stopping but allowing him to fall in step next to him. 

Miles did. 

“Kane.” 

Miles chuckled. “Have you ever noticed that you call me Kane when you’re ready to attack without warning, but call me Miles when you wait for me to throw the first punch?” 

He had not, but now that Miles had pointed it out to him, Alex found it worrisome that he was so predictable. “Are you here to – falsely – point out that my chords sounded flat or that my voice was shallow?” 

“Ding, ding, ding! Round one goes to Alex Turner, throwing a hard right at the start!” Miles made a little boxing gesture, throwing Alex for a loop because it made him laugh. Miles stopped walking. “What the—?” 

“I know,” interrupted Alex, stopping Miles from pointing it out. “I’m as shocked as you are. Trust me, this was the first and the last time that I’ll laugh at one of your not-funny jokes.” 

“Will you laugh at my funny ones, then?” 

“Don’t count on it.” 

Miles caught up with him again. 

“What do you want?” 

“Maybe I came to enjoy the show,” suggested Miles innocently. 

Alex snorted. “Sure.”

“Alright, how about this one? I came to ask if you’re okay with it.” 

“Okay with what? I’m not a mind-reader, least of all your mind-reader. Use words, will you?” Miles stopped walking again. This time, Alex stopped as well. They were on the grass, behind the stage, near the trailers and service tents. “Listen, Kane, you clearly want something from me. Just spill it. I’m tired, I’m thirsty, and you’re putting me in a bad mood. Get it over with, please!” 

It would have been too kind of him to actually do him that favor. Alex bit his cheek as Miles’ lips formed that signature smug smile of his. 

“They haven’t told you, have they?” 

Alex rolled his eyes. “Told me what?” 

“I was offered to be the opening act of the last leg of your tour through Europe this summer, beginning in London next month.” 

Alex stared at Miles in blank confusion. Wasn’t Miles too big a name to be their opening act? And why hadn’t he been told? Why hadn’t he been asked? Usually, the band decided which act they wanted to open for them. Wait, had the band decided for Miles? Had they decided without him? 

Miles looked no longer smug but slightly, if barely, awkward. “Sorry, I…er…listen, if you want to discuss this with your band…” 

Alex shook his head. If the band wanted Miles, let the band have Miles. And if the band wanted him to act friendly and likable towards them again, then they could bloody hell crawl up to him on their knees and apologize for not asking him for his opinion first! “All’s fine. Enjoy being our opening act.” 

“You know, being an opening act isn’t a bad thing. No need to sound so dismissive about it,” Miles told him, his voice quiet. 

If Alex didn’t know better, he’d say that Miles’ feelings were hurt. But that would imply that Alex had the ability to hurt his feelings, meaning Miles would have to actually care for Alex’s opinion. And he didn’t do that. Did he? “I didn’t mean to imply—” 

Miles held up a hand. “It’s alright. Don’t apologize. I only care for those when they’re genuine, anyway.” 

“All of my apologies are genuine, else there’s no reason to apologize at all, is there?” Alex took a step towards him, angered by the implied accusation. “And I wasn’t being dismissive!” 

“Yes, you were,” stated Miles, eyes small and harsh. “You can’t even admit it!” 

“It’s not my problem you don’t recognize a simple and nice ‘welcome to our tour’ as exactly that!” Alex’s glare got harsher. “I don’t want to fight with you, Kane! I just want to leave!”

“Then leave, Turner!” 

Their eyes held on to each other, their glares cold and daring. Alex ripped his gaze away, walked off, then came to a halt a few meters away, still furious, but also, wildly curious. “Why did you watch our set?!” 

“Why did you watch mine?” 

“Got lost,” lied Alex. “Wound up there somehow. Heard a lot of flat chords and stayed for the amusement.” 

When Alex looked up to meet his eyes once more, Miles smiled softly. Alex was certain he detected the tiniest note of sadness in it. “Will you ever get over that one?” 

“I haven’t gotten over it in the thirteen years since you’ve said it. Don’t count on it now. Why did you watch our set?” Alex asked again. 

“Got bored. Wound up there somehow. Heard not a single flat chord and stayed for the perfection.” When Miles walked up to him, when he stepped straight into his personal space and settled comfortably within it, Alex noticed that his heart began beating faster. He tried to remember the last time that happened but couldn’t recall a single comparable instance. With a stunned expression, he stared at Miles, who leaned towards him the slightest bit, yet close enough for Alex to smell the scent of coffee on his breath, to feel the warmth that spread from him and to sense the energy that gave him a captivatingly sizzling aura. 

“At some point,” began Miles, holding Alex’s gaze hostage, “you have to explain to me why you don’t like me. ‘Cause for thirteen years I’ve been trying to figure it out and I just can’t do it.” 

“Careful, Kane.” Alex feasted on Miles’ undivided attention as he leaned closer. “Listening to you, one might be tempted to think you actually want me to like you.” 

“Careful, Turner,” replied Miles. “Watching you lean in like this, one might be tempted to think you already do.” 

.

.

Spoiler for Chapter Two: 

“It was such a bloody small comment. I can’t believe that it bothered you so much that you held on to it for over ten fucking years!” 

“Well, you learn something new every day, don’t you?” Alex reached for his drink, but Miles was faster. Before he could even react, Miles snapped the drink out of his reach , brought it to his lips and swallowed it. Shock was written all over Alex’s face. 


	2. Cause You Know It's Growing Up So Fast

Chapter Two 

Alex walked through the heavy glass door and beelined towards the first empty stool at the bar that he spotted. It was crowded and loud and everything that he neither wanted nor needed at the moment, but the alternative was to sit in an empty hotel room or hang out with his band, and that he wanted even less. 

They’d gotten into an argument, once again, about the direction of their next album. It wasn’t that Alex minded input or guidance or even participation during the writing process. The issue was that there was no writing process, for Alex came up short on inspiration these days. 

His band would no doubt understand, if he had the guts to tell them, which, so far, he hadn’t, and therefore they kept getting stuck in the same situation: They would ask for the new material, he would say there was nothing share-worthy yet and they would argue that it wasn’t his decision to make. 

To say that there wasn’t anything share-worthy, since there was literally nothing to share, as in absolutely nothing, in Alex’s eyes, equaled admitting complete and utter failure. And his ego was too big for that. 

He knew that; he knew that his arrogance and his ego were his biggest flaws and the main reason he lacked deep friendships outside the band and kept failing at relationships, but his ego was also what got him the success in the first place. So, he clung to it for now and chose fights over honesty. 

For the first time all day he regretted that his girlfriend had broken up with him that morning. He hadn’t loved her, but she’d been fun to be around, and he’d appreciated her ability to distract him from himself. Only, she’d told him rather unmistakably that she didn’t consider herself a glorified booty call and told him to go fuck himself instead. He had chuckled at the image. She had tossed a handbag at him. It had been an amicable split. 

Signaling for the barkeeper, Alex pointed towards the fancy bottle of Scotch at the wall behind the bar. “That one. Keep ‘em coming.” 

A voice pierced through the veil of strangers. “Nice one.” 

Of all the people to run into… 

Alex turned to his side, wiping a hand over his eyes. “Kane.” 

“Last name.” Miles chuckled and raised his fists in front of his face. “Throw down your punch, then. Come on, I’m ready for it!” 

He’d love to. Oh, he really would love to go round for round with Miles right now, punching hard and viciously until his head would spin and every memory of today would be buried underneath a mountain of banter and benign insults. But it had been a long day. He was tired. And he’d have to be up and ready early in the morning. 

Alex snuck another glance at him. There was an empty seat between him and Miles. Considering the fact that the bar was crowded, it would only be a matter of time before somebody claimed that stool. “Why don’t we try something new,” he suggested, “and ignore each other.”

An amused shrug rolled from Miles’ shoulders. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

“I do want that,” assured Alex. “I’ll get back to this.” He held up his drink. “And you do whatever it was you were doing before you felt the need to make your presence known.” 

He heard the snort as it happened. And he knew he had himself to blame for that. He’d poked him. Just a tiny bit. But enough to stir a reaction. He hadn’t even meant to do it. It came naturally with Miles. Fully expecting a retort, he was waiting, patiently, and, then, impatiently, for it never came. As he snuck a peak at Miles, Alex was irritated to find him silently enjoying his drink. 

He finished his own one, placed the empty glass back on the bar and motioned for the barkeeper. He positioned a fifty-pound note next to the glass and tapped his finger on it. “Whenever you see it empty, you immediately refill it. Are we clear?” 

“Crystal,” replied the barkeeper as he took the money and refilled the glass.

“There’s really no reason why you and I can’t enjoy a quiet night in each other’s company.” 

He bit back a grin. There it was. Instead of replying with snark, Miles had chosen to annoy him instead. Dirty player that he was. “Only it’s not quiet if you keep talking,” countered Alex. 

“I merely stated an opinion.”

“An audible one.” 

“Stating an opinion usually is that. Audible, I mean. Unless it’s written. In that case, it wouldn’t be audible. Then again, I guess a case could be made for—”

“I got it,” Alex interrupted. “I got your point!” He honestly shouldn’t be enjoying this. 

“I had a point?” 

Alex struggled to keep his look of indifference. He bit the inside of his cheek as he let his eyes dart back to Miles. The guy looked so smug and cocky, sitting at the bar, laid back and with that lingering, taunting expression of humor on his face, waiting for Alex to place his next step. 

Inside his shoes, Alex’s toes were wiggling frantically. He was on edge. Restless. Dying to step into the trap and get lost in what he knew would be a magnificent, wildly satisfying match of wit and banter. But in order to do that, to keep up, he’d have to remain sober. Or something close to that. And he’d come here with the sole purpose of achieving the opposite! Still fighting that grin that was tugging on the corners of his mouth, he shook his head. “Can’t bait me into it, Kane. Enjoy your night. Just let me enjoy mine.” 

“Wasn’t baiting you,” Miles pointed out. “But, okay. I’ll keep quiet. Mute. Won’t say a word. Not a single syllable.”

Alex nodded approvingly, with just the barest hint of wile, however, once Miles actually did remain quiet. 

He took his drink, finished it off yet again. The barkeeper immediately reloaded. Efficient and fast. That’s how he liked professionals. 

In the back of the club, a band began to play. He read their name on a poster on the door when he’d arrived. He’d never heard of them before. The crowd began to gather near the stage and a few people left the bar to walk there to get a closer look. 

From the first bits of it that he could hear, they were into rock and alternative music. The drummer was giving his best, limited though his talents were. The bassist was doing fine. The guitarist and the singer, though…Alex cringed. Guy could sing, a little off, but those two could really use some help fine-tuning their instruments. 

“Ooh,” winced Miles, “that hurt.” 

Alex chuckled, finally losing the fight. “What happened to remaining quiet?” 

“I wasn’t addressing you,” stressed Miles. A smirk flew to his face. “I should really put a mark in my calendar. It’s the second time this week that you laughed at something I said!” 

He was well aware! Alex sank his teeth into his tongue to avoid doing it a third time! 

Suddenly, Miles let out a loud laugh and turned on his stool, fully facing Alex. More laughter. 

_Don’t ask_ , Alex told himself. _Don’t ask. You do not want to know!_

“What’s so funny?”

_Damn it!_

“Wait for it,” said Miles and held up a finger. The band was playing the refrain, the guitars began to set in and— “Did you hear it?”

Alex had not. What had he been supposed to hear? 

“Come on, Turner!” 

“What?” Alex was at a loss. “I don’t—” The part played again. And, this time, he did hear it. Drooping forward, succumbing to loud laughter as well, he shook his head. “Don’t even say it!” 

“Flat D!” Miles said it, anyway, grinning widely. “What’s it with that string, huh?”

Thirteen years after that remark, Alex was by now able to see the whole thing from a calmer perspective. Almost. But, being reminded of it by Miles did bring back memories of resentment. “As if your guitars have never been out of tune, Kane!” 

Miles met Alex’s eyes. The humor simmered down. “Still a sore topic, huh? And here I thought it might make a good joke.” 

Alex turned back towards the bar, swallowed another drink and began to feel that desired buzz. He relaxed into it. A sigh slipped from his mouth. Then he abruptly looked at Miles. “It’s not the bloody string, you know? It’s the fact that you pointed it out. Did it never occur to you that I knew? That I had heard? I didn’t need you to tell me!”

“It was such a bloody small comment. I can’t believe that it bothered you so much that you held on to it for over ten fucking years!” 

“Well, you learn something new every day, don’t you?” Alex reached for his drink, but Miles was faster. Before he could even react, Miles snapped the drink out of his reach, brought it to his lips and swallowed it. Shock was written all over Alex’s face. 

Miles merely glared. “Slow down, would you? I need you to actually comprehend what I’m about to tell you!” His eyes turned harsh. “You played fucking awesome that night. It was an almost perfect set! I’d never heard any band play a perfect set before! I was in awe as I watched you. And I watched _you_ , Turner! Instead of telling you that everything else was perfect, I pointed to the one thing that wasn’t. It was fucked up, twisted, badly executed compliment that I tried to make but failed to deliver. I screwed up! If you think back to your dressing room, I tried to fix it. I tried to tell you how incredible I believed you were. But you chose to act like a fucking egomaniac. I wanted to apologize. You made me not to. There’s a lesson for _you_ to learn!” He handed the glass back. “Feel free to get drunk now!” 

Well.

So much for a quiet night.

The barkeeper returned to refill his glass. Alex pointed towards Miles. “One for him, as well.” Closing his eyes, he rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m not…” He turned to his side, to Miles, only to find that somebody else had taken a seat on the empty barstool. 

What the hell? Stupid stranger! He was in the midst of a moment with Miles and he needed to fix it, otherwise that, too, would be hanging over his head. And, considering how things were going in his life, sooner or later, one of those things was bound to come loose and strike him to death!

“I’m sorry,” said Alex, addressing the stranger, “but, I’m in a conversation with the gentleman to your left. Would you mind sitting elsewhere?”

“I would,” retorted the stranger. 

The remnant of politeness, which his current mood allowed for, reached its extent. Alex’s voice turned cold. “The nice thing would have been to ask if that seat was taken.”

“Fuck off, asshole!” 

Alex was spurred on. “Somebody is in desperate need of some manners. I wonder if the bar has ‘em on sale…” 

“Listen up, you punk—”

“Ignore him,” interjected Miles. “Everyone else does.” He was standing next to Alex, out of nowhere, dragging him off his stool. “Let’s go for a smoke!” 

“No! Wait!” He was just getting started! “Let go, Kane!”

But Miles kept pulling him towards the back exit. “Wait for what, Turner? For him to deck you?”

“I can hold my own in a fight!” 

“When you’re sober. In a ring. Prepared. Not tonight.”

Alex blew out a breath of frustration but gave up struggling. Instead, he allowed Miles to tug on his arm and to lead him outside. He had quite a firm grip. And warm hands, Alex discovered. Miles’ touch felt reassuring in the strangest way. “Hold on.” Something occurred to him. “Shouldn’t you want him to punch me?”

Miles rolled his eyes as they reached the back alley. Pulling out his cigarettes, he lit himself one. Then offered one to Alex. 

“Five minutes ago, you were pissed off at me. Now you’re being kind. Why?” Alex nonetheless took a cigarette and patted his pockets, searching for a lighter. He couldn’t find one and was even more stunned to find Miles holding up his own, flame alight. Alex leaned in, lit the cigarette and smelled a whiff of Miles’ cologne. It smelled good. Not used to being so close to him, Alex found himself overwhelmed with questions he now wanted answers to. Weird questions. Like, what was the name of that cologne he was he wearing?

“It may come as a surprise to you, but I don’t actually hate you.”

Alex looked up, meeting Miles’ eyes. He leaned against the brick wall of the building, driving his fingers through his hair. “I wouldn’t blame you. Plenty of other people do.” He shrugged helplessly. He was used to it by now. “I’m not necessarily easy to be around.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” snickered Miles. 

Alex snorted. “I’m a perfectionist.” His face turned somber. “I don’t mean to be. I can’t help myself.” He wondered if it was the liquor that made him this honest. “If somebody points out to me that I have a flaw, or that my work has a flaw, it feels like a grave insult even though it’s not. Add to that my affinity to hold grudges and here I am, thirteen years later, still not over your comment.” He saw Miles’ startled face and frowned. “What?”

“Did you just apologize?”

“This is a really bad moment to mock me,” noted Alex harshly. 

“I’m not mocking,” said Miles. “I’m genuinely shocked!” 

“How much of an asshole do you think I am? I do know how to apologize! I do it all the time when I’m wrong!”

“And how often is that?”

“I—” The word died on his lips. He looked away, almost sheepishly. “It’s been a while.” 

A small smile appeared on Miles’ face. “That you’re wrong or that you apologized?”

“Both,” conceded Alex. He watched Miles and saw that he wasn’t angry or bitter. There was that look on his face that he’d spotted before, occasionally, when they weren’t fighting or doing anything, really. It appeared whenever their eyes met and they ended up just staring at each other. It was an expression of complete intrigue. As though he was trying to figure him out. It was an intense look, drilling through his carefully constructed armor, and it had a tendency to undo him. Alex averted his eyes and took a long drag from his cigarette. “I’m sorry for making you not want to apologize to me.” 

“Well said,” commented Miles amused. 

“Take it or leave it, Kane.” 

“Apology accepted.” Miles held out his hand to him. “I’d like to apologize as well. For wrongly highlighting what I know you have known all along – that your D was flat that night.” 

“Thanks for reminding me. Again.” Alex took his hand. “Apology accepted.” He held on to the hand as he took another drag from his cigarette. Miles’ hand was large, his grip strong and confident. His fingertips were rough from playing guitar, just as his own were. There was something about touching his hand that made Alex linger and not pull away. 

They were very similar. Always had been. Same interests, same goals, same friends. Same humor. They constantly found themselves laughing at the same jokes. They had an equal wit and a similar mind. And Miles almost never apologized, either, so Alex knew that behind all those flippant words lingered great meaning. 

Shaking Miles’ hand felt like a big step. The start of something.

After a minute of holding onto it, however, Miles grinned. “We should let go.”

Alex let go. “Definitely.” 

Miles flipped his dead cigarette away. “Want to go back in?”

Did that mean that they were no longer two separate people who sat near each other and happened to know each other but were now two people who would spend the evening together? Deliberately? Like… _friends_? “Just so we’re clear, I’ll still point out to you that you’re an arrogant prick whenever you act like one.”

“Good, ‘cause I’ll do the same! Don't worry, Turner. We have plenty of topics left to argue about. It's not like we're best friends all of sudden!” As Miles said it, he held the door open for Alex. “We're just two people trying to get along.”

Alex made his way back to the bar but felt Miles’ hand on his shoulder when they passed the stage.

“Let’s stay and listen!” suggested Miles. 

“Are you crazy?” Alex gave him a lock of dismay. “They’re horrible! The singer wouldn’t know how to hit a note of if it came with an arrow attached to its neck! The guitarist needs a tutor more than anything and the songs? Come on, Kane! How rude do you need me to get?”

Miles’ jaw dropped. “Don’t hold back!” 

“Hey, you’re the one who said they were hurting your ears!” 

“I’ve never felt more flattered knowing you actually enjoy my music!” 

“What?” Alex blinked. “Why?”

“To say you have high standards would be the world’s biggest understatement!” 

“I’m picky, so what?” He was beginning to feel offended. 

“It’s not a bad thing!” Miles stepped closer. It was loud and crowded after all. “I’m not insulting you! I’m saying I’m feeling genuinely complimented that you like my work.”

“You perform flawlessly, and you work hard. Your lyrics have a unique sense of humor and I happened to share your humor.” It wasn’t like him to speak so openly to people, let alone Miles, and he felt slightly embarrassed about the fact that here he was, doing it again, after their little chat in the alley. “But, unlike those guys, you know how to play the guitar! Not as good as I do, but…you know…you do fine.” 

Miles rewarded his honesty with a soft smile, which quickly turned into a sly grin. “Do you know that I actually like it when you get all cocky? All that hubris? You wear it well.”

Despite Miles’ amused exterior, Alex knew that he meant those words. Because, just like Alex himself, Miles never said anything he didn’t mean. And to hear that this person, who he, despite their long and winding past, actually respected, liked that one part of him that the rest of the world seemed to hate so much, gave him the most peculiar joy. “Here I thought I was an arrogant prick,” half-joked Alex.

“You are. And I’ll mock you for it, rest assured. Nonetheless, it looks good on you.”

It was the strangest compliment he’d ever gotten, and it might possibly be the one he appreciated the most.

“Bloody hell,” shot Miles and cringed. “Poor guitar!”

Alex directed his attention to the band. They really were bad. The song, thankfully, came to an end.

“We'll take a small break,” announced the singer, “and we'll be back with some nice _Beatles_ covers in five minutes.”

Grabbing Miles' arm, Alex sent him a pleading look. “Don't make me listen to that! I can't have them defile those classics! Let's just get out of here.” He was aware that he, too, was suggesting spending time together. But the night was shaping up to be a turning point in their relationship and he wasn't quite ready for it to end yet.

Miles had other plans, however. “Leaving?” He shook his head with a wicked glint in his eyes. “Let's do better than that!” Taking hold of Alex's arm, Miles guided them closer towards the stage, then to the side of it. “The lights are out. Nobody can see us.” He climbed up.

Alex couldn't believe it. “Are you fucking crazy?” He tried holding him back, but Miles was already out of reach, crouching on stage, by the guitar. “Kane! Get back here!” He glanced around, checking if anyone had spotted them. But the darkness did hide them well. Cursing under his breath, he jumped up the stage and made his way towards Miles. “I can't believe you're tuning that guy's guitar!”

“He needs any help he can get!” Miles had unplugged it, to not raise too much awareness. Which, in return, made tuning it that much harder. He picked the strings. “Sounds better, right?”

Alex couldn't help but chuckle. “Are you really asking me if the D sounds alright?”

Laughter came from Miles. “We've made great strides in our relationship in the last ten minutes, haven't we?”

“You're insane,” exclaimed Alex, utterly enjoying himself, however. He was astonished by his own actions when he reached for the singer's guitar and unplugged it. “They really do need help!” He began fidgeting with the strings when somebody stepped in front of him.

“The fuck are you doing with my guitar?”

Alex looked up. “Fixing it?”

The jolt of laugh from Miles didn't help. The singer had a murderous look on his face. Carefully placing the guitar away, Alex got up. “It was a bit out of tune.”

“That one as well,” said Miles as he placed the other guitar away. He came to stand next to Alex. “We were just trying to help.”

“By messing with our instruments?” The singer was seething.

Alex could understand him. He'd have detonated if anyone had dared to touch one of his guitars, let alone meddle with one. About to apologize, the words, though, remained stuck in his throat when Miles slung an arm around his shoulder. “We're sorry. We're leaving.”

“What's going on?” The guitarist had made his way back on stage, blocking the exit.

The singer pointed at them. “These two fuckers think our instruments are out of tune. They decided to sneak on stage and fix it for us!”

“The hell?”

When all of this was over, Alex would have to have a stern word with Miles. If this new friendship-ish thing of theirs was supposed to stand the test of time, they'd have to settle for less risky activities.

Only, Miles didn't look nearly as out of place as Alex felt. That perpetual grin was forever dancing on his face, that smugness clung to him like a second skin and his swagger had not missed a single beat. “They truly needed to be tuned,” he pointed out.

Digging his fingers into Miles' waist, Alex tried dragging him away and off stage. But he was immovable.

“You guys play or what? Bunch of cocky wannabe musicians, huh?”

Now, Alex felt insulted. Cocky, he was. Wannabe, he was not. Meeting Miles' insulted eyes, he sneered. “Do we play? Every once in a while, right Miles? Just for fun.”

“We don’t even know what we’re talking about. Right, Alex?”

“Not one bit.”

“Assholes,” said the singer. “Like you could play better.” He was clearly laughing at the mere idea.

“I would be immensely disappointed if we couldn't do better.” Alex took hold of the guitar and handed it to Miles. “Shall we show 'em how it's done?”

An amazed, pleased smile grew slowly on Miles' face as he took the guitar from Alex. “Alright. Let's do it. What do you wanna play?”

“Let's do something easy. How about Bowie?”

“A little something to warm up with.” Miles' smile had become a full-blown, wildly amused smirk that sparkled with a rainbow's worth of emotions.

Alex was thrilled knowing he'd dazzled him so completely. And he enjoyed even more that they seemed to understand each other so perfectly. Grabbing the other guitar, he put it on, plugged it in and met the singer's eyes squarely. Finally, his own swagger returned to him. “I believe this is our stage now.”

Miles plugged his guitar in as well, grabbed a pick and strummed a chord. “Guess this thing will have to make do.” He grinned at Alex. “Ready?”

“Oh, I'm ready. Pick a song, would you?”

As soon as Miles began playing one, the lights turned on, the crowd gathered anew and the first cheers filled the club.

Alex realized Miles had begun playing _Moonage Daydream._ He sure loved that one! Grabbing the mic, he leaned into it and sang as he'd never sung before. He belted the words with more passion, more bluster and more fun than he had done in a long while. The cheers turned louder. People recognized them. Glancing at Miles, who was performing with as much vigor and enthusiasm as he, himself, Alex felt himself drifting off into the song and into their performance. It was different singing this song with two guitars and no drums, no bass, nothing else, but they were killing it. Especially Miles.

It was the first time they were on stage at the same time, playing at the same time. And he found himself delighting in it. They had chemistry. They just clicked. Alex could almost anticipate which move Miles would make next. And it made him daring. It made him play differently. With the Monkeys, Alex knew what would happen next because they had played so often together, there was rarely ever a 'next' which hadn't happened before at some point. With Miles, it was an adventure. It was exciting. It was new.

And dirty.

With Matt, Nick or Jamie, there was complete familiarity and blind trust. With Miles, there was energy and wickedness. Miles loved dancing on every edge in his vicinity. He was reckless and fearless and he could be dared into almost anything. And if there was one thing Alex loved doing, it was daring people towards the dark side.

A mischievous look, a naughty provocation filled his eyes as he leaned impossibly close to Miles during the middle eight. Their eyes held on to each other. There was a fierce intensity to it all. The crowd was eating it up, screaming deafeningly, but the only voice Alex longed to hear was Miles'. Stepping away from the mic, he felt bold enough to shock him, dying for a reaction. “You hear that? Imagine if we kissed now.”

Laughter spilled from Miles, who continued to play perfectly despite Alex's best attempts to rattle him. “That will never happen!”

And just like that, Alex felt challenged. Not because he desperately wanted to kiss Miles. But because Miles so utterly denied the very chance of it.

The song came to an end and Miles grabbed Alex's hand as he took a bow, forcing Alex to do the same.

At the side of the stage, the singer and the guitarist stood next to each other. They were no longer angry. “Miles Kane and Alex Turner,” the singer said. “We should feel honored.”

“Tell you what,” said Alex. “Consider yourselves invited to a Monkeys gig of your choosing. Thanks for letting us use your guitars.” His smile grew bigger the moment Miles wrapped his arm around his shoulders. He turned towards him. “Bar?”

“Lead the way,” said Miles, his arm moving on from his shoulders down his back until their hands met.

Alex took it and led the way. He was brimming with liveliness. He'd had an adrenaline rush when those musicians had caught them on stage. And playing Bowie like that, with Miles? It had been incredible!

“Let's celebrate our first time together with something good. Tequila?” Miles ordered two for each.

“Trying to fill me up, ey?”

“Trying to catch up. You're way ahead of me!”

Alex laughed, but couldn't possibly disagree. The Scotch from earlier was definitely showing his strength! “I'll do one then, and you do the rest. Let's see how fast you can drown 'em!”

“Oh, I can do fast!” He downed the first one, shook his head, and immediately finished the next one.

Impressed, Alex placed the third one in front of him as he held up his own. “To us.”

“To us,” agreed Miles.

Once done, Alex glanced around. “People are watching us.”

“We should definitely get out of here!” He pulled out his wallet, handed over some cash.

Placing one hand on Miles' shoulder, waiting for him to finish paying their drinks, Alex spread his fingers and felt the muscles flex beneath his touch. “Move fast then,” he said, “some are coming over!”

-

“Drink up!” Alex's eyes were glued to Miles, who he slammed the shot empty glass back down on the bar. They'd found themselves in a dive bar filled with bikers and hookers and, possibly, not a single indie rock music fan. “Yes! 'nother one!”

Across from Miles, the barkeeper nodded. And next to Miles, a middle-aged bald guy with an arm full of tattoos and an impressively decorated leather jacket grimaced hard. “You win. I can't do more!”

Laughing, leaning into Miles, one arm continually wrapped around his neck, Alex whispered, “you're fucking sick! How are you still standing?”

“You had more than me!”

“Yeah, but I'm a professional drinker! I can handle it.” He honestly shouldn't be proud of it.

Miles held out his hand for Alex. “Nice to meet you, then, fellow pro drinker.”

More laughter. It seemed it was all they were doing that night. Alex couldn't remember the last time he'd had that much fun. It came so easily with Miles.

He took out his cigarettes, lit himself one and offered it to Miles, who took a drag before handing it back. Not the first one they'd shared that night. Taking note of the increasing heat, he was halfway out of his leather jacket when he became aware of Miles' eyes as they traced his every move. Slowing down, unable to resist the urge to put on a bit of show for him, he let the jacket glide off his flexed arms.

There was something between them. Alex felt it with every fiber of his being. An attraction, only stronger. A pull. A magnetism. He doubted that it was a new thing. He'd felt hints of it before, over the years, whenever they were in the throes of a fight. There were moments when he'd sensed the crackling in the air around them. There were instances where he'd wondered what would happen next – a punch or a kiss. Sometimes, there was too much energy between them.

Miles must have felt it, too. There was no way he couldn't have. Not when he was giving Alex the kind of look he was wearing now. Raw and tempted. Curious.

Was Miles into men? Was he as easily captivated by the new and the unexplored as Alex was?

Alex had never been with a man before, but not for a lack of interest. More so for a lack of trust. There had been moments when he'd found himself considering a kiss. But taking that step into a new world was a deeply private and intimate one and he was no longer a private person. Also, trusting people was not something that came easily to him.

Only, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to take that leap as much as he did now.

Miles reached over as their eyes remained exclusively on one another. He took the cigarette from between his lips and brought it to his own. “More?”

More of what? More liquor, more cigarettes, more teasing? He'd say yes to it all. And nodded.

Miles ordered another round of drinks, making Alex laugh. “We should go back to the hotel.” They were currently in Glasgow, and as early as 7 a.m. Alex had to be ready to leave for the airport to head home to London. Miles was likely on the same flight.

Then they'd be on a break for a month before the last leg of the _Arctic Monkeys'_ tour resumed in London, with Miles as their opening act.

“We can do with one night of no sleep, can't we? That's what planes are for.” Miles handed him a Vodka shot, then took his own. “I wonder which one of us can take more.”

“That's a dangerous question to pose. Neither of us would ever admit defeat!”

“We could die figuring out the answer!”

“We _would_ die! It would be a wise idea to call it a night and call a cab.”

Miles got up, downed his drink and smirked. “Where's the fun in that?” He got up and snaked his arm around Alex’s waist. “Let's walk.”

“All the way?” The idea made the hairs on Alex's neck stand up straight. Either that, or Miles' embrace did. “I don't even know where the hell we are!”

“Just a bit, then. Come on!” Not letting go, steering them towards the exit, Miles reached for Alex's jacket and the half-finished bottle of Vodka on their way out.

“Very important!” Alex tossed his head back in laughter. “Nothing worse than being on the road without anything to drink!”

“Precisely,” agreed Miles. Outside the bar, he turned to Alex as his eyes turned wide. “Shit, run!” He began to sprint or at least tried to, as much as his drunken state allowed it.

Alex joined in. “What's wrong?”

Behind them, a few bikers began to yell.

Miles dragged Alex further along and down the road, into a dark alley and out of sight. “We forgot to pay!”

“We…” Alex collapsed against the nearest wall, completely lost in the hilarity of it all. “Oh, it's been a while since I had a night like this!”

Miles hovered in front of him. “Who would have thought you and I could have that much fun together!”

“Certainly not me,” admitted Alex. Even in complete darkness, he could see the depth of Miles' eyes. Reaching for the bottle of Vodka in Miles’ hand, Alex took it, tossed the cap away and took a swig. He pressed his body against the bricks behind him and reveled in the cold that gradually seeped into his skin. His eyes felt heavy and his tiredness was threatening to overwhelm him.

Miles leaned back next to him, reached for the bottle and drank some. “We should do this again sometime. Who knows? Maybe we’ll run into each other in London.”

He couldn’t wait for that, found Alex. Turning towards Miles, smiling lazily, he took the bottle out of his hands and brought it to his lips. “The night has grown up so fast. I wish it would last.”

Leaning closer, Miles lowered his voice to a whisper. “Is that a new lyric of yours?”

Alex shook his head once, slowly. He didn’t have the energy for a stronger response.

“Jamie mentioned you’re working on new material. Can’t wait for it.”

“Neither can I,” confessed Alex and looked up towards the sky. “I haven’t written a word in months.” The gravity of his admission sank in and he met Miles’ stunned look with one of pure panic. “Don’t tell ‘em! Please, Miles. They can’t know!”

“I won’t.” Miles’ head inched closer. “I promise.”

“Thank you.”

“Why can’t they know? They would understand, wouldn’t they?”

“They would. It’s complicated. I’m not ready for them to know.” Alex’s gaze fell to Miles’ lips and he swallowed. Was it the darkness that made it so tempting to close the gap?

“I think it’s time we find a cab.”

“Why?” murmured Alex, licking his lips.

“‘Cause you and I are very drunk. And we might very much regret it if we don’t find a cab soon.”

“You are tempted to kiss me, then?” There was that honesty again. That curiosity.

“I’ve been tempted for as long as I can remember.”

Time appeared to have stopped. They stood in the back alley, cloaked in black, shielded and secure, but frozen in place.

“What if I gave you permission to do it?” Alex’s voice was barely audible. There was none more than a hair’s breadth of distance between them.

Miles moved his head from left to right and back. “You and I aren’t made for kisses.” His words came out hoarse. “You and I, we’re volatile and explosive. We never do anything in measure. Isn’t that why we always fight? We do it wholly or we don’t do it at all. You and I…we might start with a kiss, but we wouldn’t end with a kiss. We’d blaze so bright we’d rival the sun and put daylight to shame. We’d burn alive, Alex. We’d never survive.”

Even in his dazed and foggy state of mind, Alex managed to tug the corners of his mouth into a coy smirk. “What a shame, then, that you’ve painted such a vivid picture.” His hand let go of the bottle of Vodka, let it drop to the ground, shattering, ignored and forgotten. He reached out, touched one hand to Miles’ chest. It was hard and strong and flat and very, very male. It was a piece if carved marble art, endlessly fascinating. Alex spread his fingers and took pride in the shiver that overtook Miles body. “Here’s something you should know about me. I quite like playing with fire.” Miles came even closer, just an increment, but closer, still. And Alex’s smirk grew. Letting his hand drop back to his side, he leaned back. “But,” he spoke, clearing his throat, “I see your point. I will keep my permission to myself.” He stepped away, towards the street, and spotted the early signs of sunrise. “Our night has come to an end, it appears.”

He heard Miles’ heavy sigh and a moment later, he caught up to him. “Do you really see my point?”

A chuckle slipped from Alex’s mouth. “Maybe.”

.

.

**Spoiler for Chapter Three:**

#

“Are you suggesting that we become real _friends_?” The word ‘friends’ rolled from his tongue like a foreign object, dangerous, and worthy of great skepticism.

Miles snorted. “Would that be such a bad thing?”

“I don’t have that many friends.” Alex looked away, checked for the food again. He lowered his voice. “Once people begin to hang out with me, once they hear me sound all smug and whatever, they tend to take offense or something.”

#  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. The Sunshine Bores The Daylights Out Of Me

Chapter 3

“If I break your jaw, my career will be over.” Miles leaned against the side of the ring, adjusting one of his boxing gloves while slyly smiling at Alex.

“That’s not what will happen when you break _my_ jaw. Also, thanks for the fierce concern about my health.” Alex put his helmet on and knocked against it. “See? Protected. You won’t hit that hard. You _can’t_ hit that hard, Kane. I’ll be fine!”

“Why are you so damn eager to get into the ring with me?” They had run into each other at the fight club by sheer accident, had looked at each other in mutual confusion about what to do next and then, out of nowhere, Alex had suggested to spar a bit. With fists. “I’ll be happy to fight you with words, Turner. I’ll even warm up for it and get me a thesaurus app to make it special for you. However, I’ve been boxing for a while now. I _can_ hit that hard. And the legions of _Arctic Monkeys_ fans out there will never forgive me for injuring their overlord!”

“Overlord.” Alex let the word roll from his lips, weighing it, trying it out.

Miles snorted. “Dear God!”

Alex grinned. “It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? Come on, Kane! Live a little. Fight a little. Besides.” He angled his arms, flexed his muscles proudly. “Do these look like the arms of somebody who has never thrown a punch before?”

He had nice arms. A well-trained male body did hold a certain appeal to Miles and Alex did have an exceptionally fine one. But, while he didn’t mind looking at it, taking in its glory and its defined lines and shapes, he still hesitated to test just how well-built his muscles actually were.

It was Alex’s turn to snort. “Wait, I get it. You’re just pretending to be concerned. You’re actually scared to lose against me! Oh, wouldn’t that hurt your ego? Rest assured, I’d tell everyone I know!”

“It won’t work. Bait me all you want!”

“If I lose, I’ll namedrop you in my next interview and admit you’re stronger than me.”

Miles straightened up, put on his helmet. “Get in the ring, Turner!”

Alex laughed. “What if you lose?”

“I won’t lose.”

-

He did lose.

Miles sat in the corner of the ring, helmet on the ground between his legs, arms slung to his sides, breathless and all powered out.

Alex sat across from him, equally drained of energy, but he was sporting a huge grin and oozed with the superciliousness of somebody who'd just won the world's greatest stuffed animal at the claw machine. As he pulled off his gloves, he raised his brows cockily. "Should we make this a regular thing? Two times a week? Tuesdays and Fridays? It’s doing wonders for my confidence!”

“Fuck you.” Miles couldn’t believe it. That feisty prick had actually beaten him in the ring. And not just by accident, but by strength and ability too. He ground his teeth as he let that sink in. “I know you’ve boxed before. But…I wasn’t prepared for that.” His damned fine arms should have tipped him off!

“I told you. But you were so very full of yourself that you didn’t take me seriously. Let that be your lesson, Kane. Always take me seriously.” Alex reached for the rope and got up. “What’s it gonna be, huh? How will you pay your debt to me? Will you admit to my superiority in your next interview? Or can I choose a different reward?” He walked up to Miles and held out his hand for him.

Miles took it, got up swiftly, and suddenly found himself merely inches away from Alex’s face. He’d never noticed what depth his eyes had. Or how long his lashes were. Against his better judgment, his eyes fell to his lips and lingered. His mind drifted back to their night, two days ago. It drifted back into the alley, back to Alex’s suggestion of a kiss. Since then, the image of it kept haunting him. “What reward do you have in mind?”

Alex’s smile turned devious. His brow rose suggestively.

Miles’ sore defeat began to matter less to him. He began to enjoy it, even. Or, rather, enjoyed whatever it was that he and Alex were doing at the moment. “Bold of you to assume that I'm offering that kind.” He was still holding on to Alex’s hand, he realized. It felt warm and it was large, and it fit perfectly against his own. “ _That_ is nowhere on the horizon.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” professed Alex innocently, “but, in case you forgot, you’d have said the same thing about you losing against me half an hour ago and look where we are now.”

“That was a one-time-only thing.” Miles pulled the rope upwards and held on to Alex’s hand as he helped him out of the ring.

“Very chivalrous of you,” complimented Alex as their hands let go of each other. He tipped his head slightly, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Shall I expect more of your gentlemanly behavior?”

“Would you like to?” Miles fell in step next to him. He and Alex had quickly slipped into a very unusual companionship. It was filled with bits of banter and plenty of joking around. It was a fast-played match of wisecracks and innuendo. And flirting. Or, rather, dancing around the edges of flirting. Nothing outright. Always with a layer of mockery to cover it up. But it was there, beneath the surface. Lurking. And it awakened his adventurous side. It made him daring. It made him want to try to see how far he could go before going too far. He’d meant it when he told Alex that they could never kiss. It would lead directly to ruin. But the road there was well-built and made for a nice drive. “Should I up my game for you?”

“Do it.” Alex grinned wily. “You could start by holding the door open for me. Maybe that's the reward I'll choose. Know what? I will! You lost. I won. And as my reward, I want you to be the most gallant and attentive gentleman for the rest of the day!”

“To everyone?”

“Everyone didn't win. I won. You're _my_ gentleman today.”

_He’s possessive,_ noted Miles with a note of intrigue.

“Enjoy it then, ten more minutes or so that it will last. I'm headed for the shower. And then…”

“And then,” interrupted Alex, “you'll take me out to dinner. What's the point of winning if I can't enjoy it?”

“What if I have plans?”

“Do you?”

Miles had plans. He'd been invited to a party. He'd planned on going, too. But, now, he found himself unbearably bored by the sheer thought of it. The idea of spending more time with Alex held infinitely more appeal. “Dinner?”

Mischief danced on Alex’s face as he nodded. And Miles was drawn to it like a bloody magnet, unable, but mainly unwilling, to resist. “Alright.”

Once inside the locker room, Miles wordlessly headed for his bag and dug through it for a towel. As soon as he'd found it, he stripped out of his shirt, kicked his shorts off and aimed for the shower when he noticed Alex across the room, watching him. He was standing motionless in front of his own bag, hands frozen inside, just looking. Taking in. Neither ashamed nor embarrassed – not even the least bit blushing.

There was an intensity to his eyes that Miles had never seen before. Interest. Hunger. He'd call it lust, but could it be? Sure, they toyed around with the idea of kissing, but what was it anyway? When Miles had admitted to Alex that the thought of kissing him lingered on his mind, he’d been drunk. And so had Alex been, when he’d suggested doing it. Neither of them had ever kissed a member of the same sex before. At least, as far as Miles knew. Curiosity was one thing, the act of doing it something else entirely.

He would never actually kiss Alex. Not only would their fire rage out of control. They were too similar, they knew each other too well, even though they’d never admit that to each other. At least, Miles would never admit that to Alex. But, thirteen years of constant conflict left one with a bit of knowledge about one’s opponent. It was inevitable. Miles had come to know that Alex had endless supplies of confidence and never let go of even the smallest, most insignificant things. But, Miles also knew where to strike to leave scars. He’d learned it the hard way, when he’d left scars. And he avoided those topics by a wide mile radius. He had never gotten into a fight with Alex with the intention of hurting him. Most of the time, they stumbled into their little tiffs. They had a real, shared talent for that!

Alex and he…they were a thing of their own. An odd couple of sorts. Two peas in a pot.

To kiss Alex would be to kiss…well, it would be to kiss the sweet, luscious lips of one’s mortal enemy. It would be to hand over to him the one weapon that could kill you and to trust him not to use it.

On the other hand, as Miles stood in the locker room, wearing nothing but briefs, reveling in Alex’s attention, the sharp edge of the knife looked deliciously tempting to touch.

“See something you like?” asked Miles, neither running away, nor hiding, nor making an attempt to cover up.

Alex straightened up, smirked. His hands went to the hem of his own shirt. He stretched wide, moved slowly, like a purring cat in the warm summer heat. He made a show of pulling it off, of that Miles had no doubt. And it impressed him. Alex owned everything he did. He made no excuses, never pretended. He thrived in bluntness and he flourished at people’s reactions.

“Nice underwear.” His smirk turned wider. “I think I have the same pair.”

Miles laughed at that. “Take a closer look if you like.”

Even now they fell into their old habits, trying to outwit the other.

“Would you like that?” asked Alex as he grabbed his own towel and followed Miles towards the showers. “But I worry. I might end up getting poked.”

“You might end up liking it,” countered Miles, closed the shower curtain behind him and stripped down. “Then what?”

-

Half an hour later, Alex pulled his car into the parking lot near an old, rundown little bar and grill a few kilometers away from the boxing club. Miles sat next to him, wiping invisible sweat from his forehead. “Hallelujah! I thought we’d never make it!”

Alex laughed hard. “I’m a very safe and responsible driver!” As he reached for the door, he stopped and turned towards Miles, looking stunned. “I can’t believe this is only the second time we’ve been in the same car.”

“Third time,” corrected Miles. “First time was a few years back. We shared a cab. You were very drunk.”

A distant look settled on Alex’s face. “Oh, right. That party. You were just as drunk!”

Miles nodded. “The one where…”

Alex nodded as well. “The first time we apologized to each other.”

“Historic event.”

“No shit,” snorted Alex. “You know, the fight happened in public. Nobody ever saw us apologizing. Jamie called me a vile piece of shit for coming at you like that.”

“He called me the same!”

Miles got out of the car, closed the door and leaned against it. When Alex settled next to him, he offered a slight smile. “I think we turned soft after that one. We still got into it, but—”

“We stuck to the usual. The superficial.” Alex sighed as he put his hands into his pockets. “The meaningless.”

Miles recalled their early fights wistfully. They were a lot more spirited during their initial sparring sessions. In the beginning, there had been no sacred line, no safe word and no holding back. It had been savage, and bloody, and one of them had always come out as the clear winner. 

Until, unavoidably, they had gone too far. After that, things had become a lot less personal. Their matches had ceased to be about anything of importance. Instead, they had become generic and toothless. But still energetic and loud.

“I was so good at insulting your music back in the day. You’d pop a vein every time I made a remark about your dictionary.”

“My lyrics were flawless. And it fucking drove me insane that you never acknowledged it!”

“Why do you think I never did?” Miles pushed himself away from the car, headed for the door of the bar and remembered why they had come in the first place. He took a step back, opened the door wide and tipped his head forward. “My lord, may I offer you entry?”

Alex tossed his head back and laughed. “Thank you, kind gentleman!” He took his time making his way past Miles, who remained in his position the entire time.

Once inside, Alex spotted the empty table near the row of windows and motioned there. “Best place for burgers in all of London!” 

“Hold on!” Miles took two large strides around Alex, who was about to sit down. “Allow me to pull out your chair.”

“And take off my jacket!”

“Of course,” agreed Miles. “Pants, too?”

“Maybe later,” grinned Alex and winked.

“Oooh, can’t wait,” mocked Miles as he took a seat across from him. The bright amusement made room for a more quiet expression. “It’s a shame, though.” His mind was still stuck on their earlier conversation, on that big fight and what had led to it. He glanced sideways at Alex. “The lyrics had great potential.”

“I still find myself playing the riff at times,” admitted Alex.

“Whose song is it, anyway? I no longer remember.”

Alex, who had lit himself a cigarette, shrugged as he met Miles’ eyes fully. “Was it ever anyone’s? I wouldn’t have come up with the lyrics if I hadn’t heard you play those notes.”

“I only have the notes ‘cause I heard you trying with the words.”

“Imagine that,” concluded Alex. “It’s _ours_.”

A smile lingered on Miles’ face as he kept watching Alex, who, in return, watched Miles. Sitting with him in silence felt neither weird nor uncomfortable. It was relaxing. Almost…nice.

That sense of daringness flared up within Miles and he surprised himself when he reached across the table, towards Alex’s hand, and plucked the half-smoked cigarette from his fingers. They had shared a few cigarettes the other night, but then, they had been drunk. And they had offered, not taken without invitation. Alex stared at him in a mixture of awe and humor. But there wasn’t the slightest trace of objection. Miles’ eyes never let go of his as he took a deep smoke from the small roll of tobacco. Then he slowly handed it back and exhaled.

Alex put the cigarette back between his lips, took a drag as well, and chuckled. “Is that a thing now? Between us?”

“Maybe.”

Miles couldn’t look away. Alex’s eyes were immensely intense, filled with innumerable shades of colors, and at the moment, every single layer began to darken. It was a magnificent sight to see. A vibrant play of light and dark.

“You guys decided yet?”

Until Alex blinked, which broke the spell Miles felt himself under. “A beer. And…” He hadn’t even looked at the menu yet.

“Two beer,” finished Alex, “and two classic burgers.”

Once the beer arrived, Alex held his glass up towards Miles. “To…new adventures?”

“To new adventures,” agreed Miles, holding his glass up as well.

“How’s that lovely girlfriend of yours,” wondered Alex absentmindedly, as he kept checking over his shoulder, clearly waiting for the food.

“I hear a trace of sarcasm,” noted Miles.

“Yes, well,” mumbled Alex, “she has a way of getting on my nerves. Keeps telling to fuck off every time I’m even near you. Like she’s worried I might actually hurt or something.”

The thought of it made Miles laugh. “She tends to get a bit overly protective. It’s not like yours was any joy to run into!” He tried to remember the name of Alex’s ex-girlfriend, but he kept coming up short. “She accused me of ruining your mojo last time we crossed paths. I don’t know what she was talking about, but whatever is ruined, it wasn’t me!”

Alex shook with laughter until he rested his head on his hand on the table. “People really do believe we’ll end up killing each other one day, don’t they?”

“She asked me to move in with her.” Miles shrugged as he leaned back in his chair.

“You don’t want that?”

“It’s not that kind of love. I like being around her, she’s fun and nice. I’m not in love with her. I keep telling myself I have to end it, you know? Be fair and honest and let her move on. But, I’m really bad at breaking up.”

“It’s easier to be with somebody when you’re not in love, isn’t it?”

“Were you?”

Alex shook his head. “Love makes things complicated. It’s distracting and messy and consuming.” He leaned back as well. “It’s rarely ever worth it.”

“For somebody who thinks so poorly of love, you write great songs about it.”

A grin lit upon his face as Alex crossed his arms. “I find that I truly like it when you compliment my music.”

“I’ll try not to do it again, then,” quipped Miles.

“Maybe that’s the reason my pages remain blank these days. Love no longer holds any appeal for me. I’ve written more than enough about it. As for everything else, I sorely lack the inspiration.”

“Use the notes if it helps. You know, _our_ song? I mean, you have the words and—”

“I don’t need your pity, Kane,” Alex said, harshly.

“It’s not pity, Turner! I was just trying—”

“To help?” Alex scoffed. “I got that. Don’t. Just don’t!”

“‘Cause, really, there’s nothing worse in the world than accepting help, right?” Miles rolled his eyes. “Stubborn little—” Then it hit him. After hours of peaceful company, they were back to doing their usual. And, for the first time ever, he didn’t want that. “Call me Miles.”

Alex was startled. “What?”

“You call me Miles and I call you Alex.”

Still staring at him, Alex appeared to be at a loss. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but you and I actually do get along. We are perfectly capable of having a conversation. And there’s no need to pick fights. I’m growing tired of it, Alex. It was not pity. And next time, I’d like you to give me the benefit of the doubt before you assume the worst. Call me Miles, not Kane. After thirteen years, I think you and I can move towards first names.”

“Fine,” grouched Alex. “Whatever. I just don’t get this thing about names, though. You call me Turner all the time.”

“Because I’ve gotten used to it. The first time we met, I called you Alex. And I switched to Turner once we began fighting. Remember what I told you the other day? How you call me Kane when you’re ready to throw the first punch? Maybe if we ditch using last names, we can ditch this whole arguing-thing that we do, as well.”

“Are you suggesting that we become real _friends_?” The word ‘friends’ rolled from his tongue like a foreign object, dangerous, and worthy of great skepticism.

Miles snorted. “Would that be such a bad thing?”

“I don’t have that many friends.” Alex looked away, checked for the food again. He lowered his voice. “Once people begin to hang out with me, once they hear me sound all smug and whatever, they tend to take offense or something.”

“Lucky for you, I already know that side of you. And I told you it’s not putting me off. Quite the opposite.” The last part came out quietly. “I’ve seen the worst of you. If you want to scare me away, you have to try harder!”

“I’m not…” Alex hesitated, fidgeted with a napkin.

Miles was transfixed. It was one of those very rare times that confident and self-assured Alex Turner was showing his raw and vulnerable side. It was the first time Alex allowed Miles to see him that way.

Well, technically, not. But it was the first time that Alex allowed that side to come out while he was being sober. And it was the first time he did it willingly.

Alex exhaled as he met Miles’ eyes. “Friends?”

Miles nodded vigorously. “Friends!”

“Let’s give it a try.”

“As friends,” Miles said, slyly, trying to take away some of that gloom that clung to Alex’s features, “we’re able to be brutally honest with one another, right?”

“Yes?”

“In that case,” continued Miles, “I should tell you that you desperately need to tune your Gibson. Last time I heard you play it, your D sounded flat and—”

Alex tossed the napkin at him. And laughed.

The food finally arrived, and Miles snickered when he saw Alex’s wide, grateful expression. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Around noon. But between then and now, I pummeled your ass. I’m hungry!”

-

After they had finished eating, they had resettled at the bar and had spent a few hours just talking. It was still startling for Miles to see how well they actually got along. They never ran out of topics to talk about. There was never a joke that either one didn’t get. And they had the oddest habit of doing things together. Whether it was drinking, smoking or remaining sober. Alex had to drive, so he’d stopped after one beer. And without any suggestion or incentive, Miles had not consumed any more alcohol himself. Alex had needed to sober up, and, out of fairness, he’d done it, too.

Miles shifted on his barstool. “These are bloody uncomfortable.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually sat at a bar for that many hours without getting drunk,” noted Alex. “Should we leave?”

“Please, yes.”

Alex reached for his wallet, but Miles held up his hand. “Nope.” He pulled out his own. “A gentleman pays, remember?” Once he paid their tab, he got up and took Alex’s leather jacket from his hand. “Allow me to help you out.”

“Know what? I could actually get used to this!” With a smirk, Alex slipped his arms inside, shrugged it on and faced Miles. “Well?”

Miles frowned. “Well, what?”

“Where’s your arm? To guide me towards the door?”

“Oh. Apologies!” Miles straightened up, positioned himself next to Alex and angled his arm up.

Alex immediately placed his hand on his elbow and offered an approving nod. On their way out, they passed a few onlookers. Miles held his head high, turned towards one of them and smiled proudly. “My girlfriend,” he spoke loudly. “Ain’t she hot?”

All but folding in laughter, Alex grabbed Miles’ arm tightly and steered him towards the exit.

Once outside, Alex leaned against the passenger side of his car. Miles leaned against it next to him, lit himself a cigarette and offered another one to Alex, who shook his head but kept observing him.

“We should do this again sometime,” said Alex.

Miles met his gaze. “We really should.” He took a smoke and inhaled deeply. When he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, he placed the cigarette between his lips, took his phone out and read the message. Or, at least, he tried to.

Until Alex turned to his side and, with a coquettish look, reached across and took the butt straight from between his lips. He brought it towards his own and dragged.

The phone in Miles’ hand was forgotten as he watched Alex’s every move. He saw the cockiness, the glint of humor, the slight shadow of darkness that befell his eyes, and he saw the lips. Those perfectly shaped, possibly, most likely very soft and pliant lips. He watched as they touched the filter side of the cigarette and kept watching until they detached from it.

Instead of simply handing it back, Alex put the butt between his thumb and index finger and brought it back to Miles’ mouth. He parted his lips for him, then closed them around the remainder of his Marlboro. He took a smoke. It was only now that Alex let go of it.

“So, it is a thing now?” asked Miles, feeling an increase in temperature all of sudden. 

Alex, nonchalant and cool as ever, smiled. “Something like that.”

Eyes glued to one another, Miles turned to his side as well. He offered the cigarette to Alex this time. The latter took it. And just like that, they began sharing it again. Once done, Alex flipped it away, opened the passenger seat door and held it open for Miles.

“It’s past midnight,” spoke Alex, as Miles slipped inside. “Your job is done.”

“How do you know where I live?” wondered Miles when Alex headed off without asking for directions or even a general description.

“I don’t know,” confessed Alex. “I just do.”

The stereo was on and _Oasis’_ _Live Forever_ was playing. Neither one spoke a word as they listened to the lyrics. Alex maneuvered his way through the busy streets of a Friday night’s London and Miles was tempted to point towards some shortcuts here and there, but he didn’t.

Alex didn’t seem in a hurry and neither was he. Every now and then they would sneak a glance at each other. Their faces carried vague smiles. As a mixture of contentment and tiredness settled over them, Miles let his head roll to the side to fully look at his new friend.

And he kept looking. He kept looking at Alex’s features, at his fine nose and his strong jaw. He noticed the way his hair curled at his nape, where it began to grow longer. Last year, he’d cut it off and for a while, he’d sported a buzzcut. Miles had been the first to point out to him that he had looked like a man in loss of his mind. He preferred Alex with longer hair. One of these days, he’d do what he had been wanting to do for as long as he could remember – reach out and touch it. It looked soft and lush. But touching somebody else’s hair was a very intimate act.

And they had just begun this friendship-thing of theirs.

Someday. Maybe.

He looked at Alex’s throat, at his chest, at his arms. His finely sculptured, at times inconveniently strong arms. Would they be able to carry him? To hold him down? Would they wrap all the way around his body? Would he enjoy that?

“Don’t think I don’t notice you staring at me. I do.” A tranquil smile appeared on Alex’s lips. The thought, apparently, pleased him.

“I like sitting in a car with you,” admitted Miles as he snuggled comfortably into the car’s luxurious leather seat. “Just you and me. Nobody else.”

Alex briefly met his gaze, still smiling, then resumed watching traffic. The placid look remained on his face. “Why don’t you drive?”

“Cars?” Miles shrugged. “Don’t know. Never got around to it. In LA, I have a scooter. Here’s the tube. I don’t miss driving a car.”

“I used to see you on your scooter in LA all the time.”

“To think that we’ve lived there at the same time, almost as neighbors. It’s a bit crazy.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Miles nodded, feeling strikingly trusted at the moment.

“Early on, in LA, all was new and imposing and a bit much. It helped knowing you were there. We kept running into each other and kept getting into our usual disagreements. It was a nice bit of familiarity in an otherwise foreign life.”

“It really was,” agreed Miles. “Like an anchor.”

Alex quickly met his eyes, if only for a short moment. “You…?”

“It was new and imposing for me as well.”

The car slowed down and Miles became aware that they had reached his apartment building. Alex parked the car at the curb, turned it off, and met his eyes. “Do you miss LA?”

“Sometimes. I miss the sun and the warm weather. But I will forever love it here. What about you?”

“I actually live near Paris. Been doing it for a while now. I needed a change,” said Alex. “But, somehow, life always brings me back to London. This city has a magical pull.”

“It really does.” And not just the city, thought Miles. He glanced at his building, then smiled sadly at Alex. “I should go. Thanks for taking me home.”

“You’re more than welcome.”

It felt exceptionally hard to leave the car. Nevertheless, Miles took hold of the door, pushed it open. “Would you like to come up for a moment?” He’d planned on saying goodnight instead. “If not…it’s alright…”

“Yes.”

Miles felt almost embarrassed by the sheer size of his smile. He tried to fight it, to control it, but gave up when he saw Alex sporting a matching one.

They entered in silence, quietly walked up the stairs and tiredly reached the third floor. Miles unlocked and held the door open for Alex, who stepped inside and immediately took in every detail he could find.

Miles kicked his shoes off and tossed his jacket over a chair by the door. “Want anything to drink?”

“Water is fine.” As Miles made his way into the kitchen, he spotted Alex stepping into living room. “Your place is tiny,” he called from there. “There’s no space left for more guitars or even more records. All your shelves are full!”

Miles chuckled. “I’m looking for a bigger place. But it’s not easy to find the right one. I’m very picky about places. And I actually like it here. It’s got charm!” He walked into the living room and handed Alex a bottle of water.

“Thanks,” he said as he flipped through his records. “Oh, Miles! Those are really rare pieces! You got a fortune resting in these shelves!”

“Want to see the really good ones? Follow me into the bedroom.”

Laughter blurted from Alex. “Ooh, are you trying to seduce me with music? I’m telling you, it might work!”

“Duly noted,” winked Miles, grinning happily when Alex actually blushed a little. He made his way back into the small hallway, then to the door on his right. As he stepped in, Alex followed.

And gaped. “Fucking shit!”

His eyes feasted on the rows of shelves filled with more records, and then he beelined towards the dresser, upon which only a few vinyls were displayed. “A first edition _Abbey Road_ album? And…wow.” His eyes got bigger as they settled on the record next to it. He met Miles’ proud look. “Is that…? Really?”

Miles nodded. He’d searched forever and paid handsomely for it, but it truly was a live studio recording of some of the earliest _Beatles_ songs.

“I’ve been looking for this since, like, forever!”

“Found in an old record store in New York. Paid half my soul for it!”

“I imagine!”

“I see a lot of shoes,” mentioned Alex as his eyes jumped from one shelf to the next, until they settled on something by the nightstand.

“My Achilles’ heel,” joked Miles. He became aware of what Alex was staring at and, in an instant, his expression turned somber and his eyes filled with regret. “I feel like I should apologize for that one.”

Alex walked up to the 1957 Gretsch electric and took it out of its stand. He placed the strap around his neck, adjusted it, weighed the instrument in his hands and met Miles’ eyes. “That one hurt.”

“Back then, I was counting on it.”

.

.

**Spoiler Chapter Four:**

#

The grin on Alex’s face morphed into a soft smile. “Let’s see if I remember it.” His fingers adjusted, the pick was in place, and Alex started strumming. A slow, heady melody began to fill the silent room as he stepped closer and closer towards Miles. He kept an insistent hold on his gaze. “Sing it for me,” he whispered.

#

Surprising himself more than anyone, he wrapped his hand around Miles’ and singled out his finger, bringing it to his own mouth, where he slowly sucked it inside.

#


	4. Exit Wounds

Chapter 4

_2015_

_Los Angeles_

_“You’re bloody annoying,” complained Jamie as he got out of Alex’s car, slamming the door shut. “Fucking nuisance! How much coffee did you drink?”_

_“None,” exclaimed Alex, giddy as he locked the car. “It’s all in my head, Jamie! The entire song. I haven’t felt this excited in ages! The tune…it’s insane. It’s energetic. It’s fierce.” He was gesticulating wildly. “The words are rushing to me and I can’t stop it.” He was hard-pressed not to admit that the tune wasn’t his. He’d overheard Miles jam on the guitar. It wasn’t one of his old songs, since he knew all of his old songs. This was a new one. And unfinished. Miles didn’t have the words yet. But Alex had the words. Almost all of them!_

_It would take a bloody miracle for Alex to get Miles to allow him to use those notes. But he’d figure that part out later. Right now, all he wanted to do was pick up his new guitar and return to his studio to work on that new tune._

_The new guitar would be perfect for it. A black and white 1957 Gretsch electric. He’d found it by sheer accident in that run-down old guitar shop near his apartment. And it was for sale. A bit pricey, still, but worth every damn dime! When he’d spotted it, he’d immediately called Jamie, ‘cause there was nobody else he knew who’d better understand the thrill of finding and falling for a new guitar._

_Except, maybe Miles. But they weren’t friends._

_Although, lately, the number of their arguments had gone down quite a bit. He’d wondered not for the first time if their spark had finally gone dark. What if they had nothing left to argue about? What then? What if they ran into each other, which happened to be something of a regular occurrence? If quarrelling was no longer an option, what would they do instead?_

_Have a normal conversation?_

_The mere idea of it seemed ridiculous!_

_Jamie snorted as he walked up to the shop’s door. “Dude must be making a fortune from the two of you alone!”_

_“What do you mean?” wondered Alex, following Jamie inside._

_“I was here just yesterday, with Miles. He paid a shit load of money for a single guitar. I mean, I’m bad when it comes to that, but you two? You’re insane.”_

_“What guitar did he buy?” He was curious, but also, wildly preoccupied with something else. His eyes darted from wall to wall. It was no longer standing where he’d last seen it. Where was his guitar?_

_“1957 Gretsch.”_

_Alex froze. He grabbed Jamie’s shoulder, spun him around. “Say that again.”_

_“1957 Gretsch.” Jamie blinked. He wrestled out of Alex’s grip. “Watch where you leave your claw prints!”_ __

_“He bought my guitar?”_

_“No!” Jamie was rubbing the sore spots on his arm. “You told me all about a black Yamaha! Which I told Miles. I specifically made sure that he didn’t even look at any Yamahas, ‘cause I know the fucked up type of relationship you two have!”_

_Alex clenched his jaw, ground his teeth. “Look around the store, Jamie. Do you see any Yamahas? Do you see a single one?”_

_“Yes, the red one. In the corner. And the powder blue one.”_

_“Do you see a black one?” hissed Alex._

_There wasn’t a single black guitar in the store. The selection wasn’t that extravagant and the black Gretsch had immediately stood out, because it had been a rare beauty in a place filled with tacky shit._

_Alex tried to take calming breaths. He saw on Jamie’s face that recognition set in. Guilt appeared. “Shit.”_

_“Yes. You led to straight to my guitar.” Miles wasn’t dumb. Alex knew that for a fact. If Jamie had mentioned a black guitar – any guitar – that Alex might be interested in inside of this store, Miles must have immediately realized that it could only have been the black Gretsch._

_Naturally, he’d bought it for himself._

_If only Alex knew why._

_Had Miles conned him into thinking they had run out of arguments? Had he lured him into a trap? They had almost, almost gotten along lately. Why’d Miles go and buy something that he must have known meant something to Alex?_

_It hurt._

_It truly, genuinely hurt._

_Because he didn’t understand it._

_He’d understand it if they had fought, or if there had been an exchange of some kind that warranted that sort of reaction, but there had been nothing of that._

_Not a single rude word._

_Had the last few weeks been nothing but the eerie calm before a thunderous storm? And there would be storm. Alex couldn’t wait to confront Miles over his actions!_

_“I’m sorry,” said Jamie, interrupting Alex’s thoughts. “I must have paid too little attention to you on the phone. I was with Katie and…shit, Alex, I’m sorry. Listen, I’ll find you that guitar online. Or in some other store. It’s not that rare. I’ll get one for you!”_

_“Don’t bother.”_

_“Alex…”_

_“Let’s just go, Jamie.”_

**Present Day**

“Why did you buy it?” Alex looked away from Miles, down, to the black and white beauty in his hands. He’d never seen Miles play it on stage. Not once. Thinking back, he’d only ever seen it once with him.

On the day of their big argument.

Never again afterwards.

Had he felt bad for buying it?

“After Jamie found out that I had gotten your guitar, he called me a miserable piece of dirt and made me swear never to utter your name in his presence ever again. He’s a good friend, you know?” Miles leaned forward, propping his arms up on his knees. “You had given an interview two days before. Coachella? We both played that weekend. And after your gig, this interviewer came to you and asked you about your thoughts. Do you even remember your answer?”

Alex had no recollection of the festival, let alone the interview. He shook his head.

“You said the only reason you even played that festival was because you lost a bet with your manager. You called it a pop event and a shame on any serious musician’s resumé. I believe your precise words were, ‘this is the stage that rock goes to die on.’ Like I said, we were on the same line up.”

The guitar hung around his neck, forgotten. Alex didn’t dare to look up from the floor. “That.” Memories of the interview returned to him. It had been one of those rare times when he’d proudly stepped into his asshole shoes and puffed his chest like a maniac. “Before he asked for my thoughts,” explained Alex, “he told me he’d spoken to Noel. Who, back then, had apparently called me a pop princess. That triggered my reply. It made me lose my cool. And…” Alex rolled his eyes. “I know what I said was rude and shitty. Do even know how many people called me out for that? My own band was pissed off at me for that!”

Alex sat down on the floor, across from Miles and crossed his legs. The guitar was still in his lap. He absentmindedly picked a string, then again. “It never came to my mind that you’d take it as a personal insult. It was never meant as one.” He searched Miles’ eyes. “I presume, when you called me the world’s greatest asshole ever in existence, it was that interview you were referencing?”

“After that fight,” confessed Miles, “I was tempted to give the guitar back, or have Jamie find a way to give it to you. But he told me you had lost all interest in it. So, I kept it. Haven’t played it since. Not once. It’s just sitting there, reminding me that I can be a real asshole, myself. And since then, I try really hard not to be one anymore.”

“Do you even realize how much conflict you and I could have avoided by simply talking to one another? How much easier we could have made Jamie’s life?” It was ridiculous, truly, and it made him shake his head in disbelief. Until something else occurred to him. “Are you telling me that this beauty hasn’t been played in three years?” Alex gently moved a hand over the fretboard, caressing it. “That’s a grave insult to it, don’t you think?”

Reaching into his pocket, Miles pulled out a guitar pick and tossed it at Alex with a smile. “Knock yourself out.”

Jumping up, Alex quickly returned to the living room where he’d spotted an amp earlier. Plugging it in, he played a chord and purred at the sweet, pulsating sound vibrating from the Vox in the corner. His teeth sank into his lower lip as he grinned slyly at Miles, who hovered in the door frame. “Any prompts?”

“I think there’s only one tune that deserves to be played on it after such a long period of silence.”

The grin on Alex’s face morphed into a soft smile. “Let’s see if I remember it.” His fingers adjusted, the pick was in place, and Alex started strumming. A slow, heady melody began to fill the silent room as he stepped closer and closer towards Miles. He kept an insistent hold on his gaze, whispering, “Sing it for me.”

“ _Colour pictures of re-entry, Voices calling down the hall, I wanted you to know, you’re the only one that bent me this far out of shape…_ ” Miles stopped singing.

Alex stopped playing. “Think we’ll ever finish that one?” He was directly in front of Miles, whose arms hung loosely by his side, and whose eyes Alex refused to let go of. “That would be a nice symbol of our changing attitude towards one another, don’t you think? A song?”

“As long as we don’t write it tonight,” spoke Miles, stifling a yawn.

Alex grinned. “Have I powered you out?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Off to bed, then!” Alex took the guitar off and walked back into Miles’ bedroom to place it where it belonged. Then he made his way back to the hallway, where Miles still leaned against the same door frame. He walked past him, unable to fight the temptation to brush his arm against that of Miles’. A brief, innocent touch, but a touch, nonetheless. A physical connection. And tonight, he longed for that. He grabbed his jacket, put it on and slipped past him once more. Close by. Same procedure. Same touch.

Noting a timid, happy smile making its way to Miles’ face, Alex was pleased him. He was tempted to do it again, to touch him again, but there was no reason to return to the living room now that he had his jacket. Next time, he’d have to play it smarter. Reaching the apartment’s door at long last, Alex tossed one more lingering look over his shoulder. “Expect me for breakfast.”

“So soon?” Miles caught Alex’s attention as his gaze roamed across the floor, almost shy. “What if we discover any more common interests or find that we like each other?”

“Then,” mused Alex, “this friendship might actually prosper. Are you willing to risk that?”

Miles met his eyes. Smiled. “Yes.”

-

Nine hours later, a bag of croissants in hand, Alex was back at the very same door. Only this time, when it opened, Miles was not the one to greet him. A woman in, presumably, her fifties did. And she carried a fierce look of disdain.

Alex almost, _almost_ took a step back. “Hello.”

“Yes?” Her left brow moved up, inquiringly, threateningly.

He was tempted to gulp, but straightened his back and man upped. “I’m Alex.”

“I know who you are, young man.”

_Frosty_ , thought Alex. “A fan, are we?” Maybe a joke would break the ice. He was tempted to bring out his charm, maybe smooth things up by slipping into flirty stage-Alex, but she looked positively deadly and he rather enjoyed living.

Her eyes became small and piercing. “No fan.”

Alex raised a brow, daring her to elaborate. Scary or not, that lady was beginning to annoy him. “You clearly know more about me than I know about you. Let’s try this again,” he suggested. “Hello, I’m Alex. Who are you?”

“Remarkably unimpressed with your swagger, young man.” She moved to close the door.

“Wait!” Alex took a step towards the door but stopped short when she squared her shoulders. He did what he always did when stuck with women. He put on his best puppy dog eyes and smiled dashingly. “I’m here for Miles. Is he at home? He knows me.”

“I’m well aware of that.” She seized him up and he was tempted to square his shoulders and straighten his back to appear taller. “Young man, does my Miles know you’re here to enter hostile territory?”

“I’m sorry, what’s that?” That woman was beginning to piss him off, truth being told. She knew more about him than he knew about her, and that included his name, she was unafraid of him and still blockaded the door. Where the hell was Miles?

Then it registered.

_My Miles._

“You must be his mother! I can see where he gets his good looks from.” Maybe a compliment would do the trick. “He’s told me so much about you!”

The woman remained stoic.

Alex sighed. Deeply. “Is he at home?”

“Would you like to come inside?”

“Yes!” He bit back a _Hallelujah_.

She pulled the door open and let him enter. Only to block his way again right behind the threshold. “Boots. They’re dirty.”

Alex looked down. That woman could give his own mother a run for her money! “Should I take ‘em off?”

“Either that,” she said, uninterested, “or you stay here. The choice is yours.”

He took the boots off. After he carefully placed them onto the shoe rag, which she had pointed out to him, Alex shrugged off his jacket and placed it on a hook at the wall. Then he smiled politely, grating though it was.

He glanced around the apartment, hoping to spot Miles somewhere. But he was nowhere to be found. Instead, the apartment was covered with cleaning utensils. A bucket of water, a mop, a vacuum cleaner, two trash bags, a feather duster, and a sponge. The latter was wet and soapy and resting perilously close to what Alex knew was one very delicate acoustic guitar.

“So,” he said, walking after her as she headed for the kitchen, “Miles…he’s…not here?”

“Won’t be back for an hour. I’m using this time to clean up his apartment. These hardwood floors really need some love and he’s more interested in his guitars than anything else. Not that his guitars couldn’t use a good scrubbing as well. Some of them are a bit dusty and—”

“Don’t scrub guitars,” he blurted out. “That could really ruin them. A bit of dust has never hurt anyone, right?”

“Does your mother know you talk that way?”

“Dear God, I hope not,” muttered Alex as he lowered his head in shame.

She reminded him of his own mother. She had the same opinion about clean apartments. Miles’ apartment, last night as he’d been here, had been clean. And his own place was clean as well. But whenever his mother came to visit, she made it seem like he was living in a bloody dumpster.

Alex sat down on the couch as she resumed dusting. “Where is Miles, anyway?” He had told him that he’d drop by. If Miles had other plans, a warning would have been nice. “Any chance he might be back sooner?” If not, he’d leave.

“Maybe. I sent him away to do some shopping for me. Else, he never leaves me alone at his place.” She kept sneaking glances at him, which, in turn, made Alex feel awfully uncomfortable. “You’re the one who keeps starting fights with him. I know you.”

Alex snorted. He’d have to have a word with Miles about who started what when they were getting into it, ‘cause, in his recollection, Miles tended to be the one starting things.

“You disagree?” she wondered.

Feeling put on the spot, Alex gulped. “Er…he and I…we trying to be friends now.”

She stopped dusting. “Friends?” A small smile appeared on her face. “I like that. My Miles could certainly use a friend. A good friend. Someone who understands this life that he lives. Someone who is equally busy and can forgive a lack of time.”

The words hit Alex at the core of his curiosity. “I don’t know anyone who has more friends than Miles. He’s making new ones everywhere he goes! Probably making some right this very moment!”

“Superficial ones,” said his mother. “He rarely ever lets people get close. I’ve yet to meet his girlfriend and they have been dating for months, which tells me he’s not introducing her to me because she won’t be around much longer.” She directed her entire attention to him. “Can he trust you, though?”

Alex crossed his arms as he leaned back. The woman was impressive. She was very direct, which was something he always admired in people. But there was a visible bit of wariness for him that she refused to let go of. “You don’t think very highly of me, do you?”

“I sometimes come to his shows. I’ve witnessed a few of your fights. Was it in May or in June that you called him a delusional lunatic who believed in every _Beatles_ conspiracy theory in existence?”

A cheeky grin flew to Alex’s face. It had been one of their feistier run-ins. “Miles accused me of eating an entire thesaurus every night. He said I’m prob—”

“—ably farting syllables by now,” laughed Miles, stepping into the room and taking a seat on the edge of the couch, right next to Alex.

Alex looked up at him and smirked. “That was a good one!”

“One of our funnier arguments,” said Miles. His eyes came to linger on Alex. There was delight on his face. Joy. “You waited for me?” The idea of that seemed to surprise him.

Alex shrugged, trying to get a hold of his emotions. Miles’ apparent happiness at his presence was filling his body with the oddest warmth. He tried steering the conversation towards something a little lighter. “Getting to know your mother.” Alex turned towards her and smiled. “I think she and I are on our way to a beautiful friendship. Wouldn’t you say so, Mrs. Kane?”

Miles’ mother shook her head as she resumed dusting, muttering, “Cocky musicians…”

“I tried to call you, to warn you, but I don’t have your number.”

That made Alex chuckle. “Now that you mention it, I don’t have yours, either. We should exchange numbers!”

Miles nodded. “We really should!” A leisurely expression spread on his face as he kept a hold on Alex’s gaze. “Want to go for a walk?”

“Now? What about your mother?”

“Leaving is the greatest favor we can do her. She prefers to mess with my apartment when I’m not around.”

Alex got up. “Alright.”

They made their way down the stairs and out of the building. The weather was warm, almost unnaturally so for London, and Miles rolled up his sleeves as Alex put his sunglasses on. “What’s new with you since yesterday?”

Alex grinned. “Went to bed after I got home, got up this morning. Now I’m here. So, nothing, really.”

“I got some news to share.” Miles walked next to Alex. Their upper arms kept brushing against another. “Got a call earlier. My guitar has finally arrived. A beautiful vintage acoustic! I can pick it up today. Want to come along?”

“Spending yet another day together? Aren’t you worried we’re moving too fast?” A grin escaped him. “At this rate, we might well be married by the end of the month!”

“Nah, that won’t ever happen.” Miles bumped his shoulder and winked. “We’d never be able to settle on a last name.”

“It’d be Turner.”

“See? We’re safe. No reason for you not to come along! And you never know. Maybe you’ll find a new one. Eddie has a huge selection of vintage guitars. Nothing is more inspiring than a beautiful new instrument.”

“Maybe,” allowed Alex. He lit himself a cigarette, offered one to Miles and when he shook his head, Alex knew they’d end up sharing his. It had become a thing of theirs. And, despite his usual apathy to sharing things, he rather liked this. He liked the intimacy that came with it. The act of mere sharing, something friends did. But, even more, he enjoyed what went beyond a bit of tobacco. There were moments when they leaned in, moments when they dared to be wicked, moments when they got so wanton that their breaths mingled and all caution slipped away.

Those were the moments he enjoyed most. That’s when his curiosity bloomed and his impulsive side got the best of him. That’s when the thought of kissing Miles took hold of his imagination and his head filled with the naughtiest of fantasies.

He and Miles had chemistry. He’d always known that. Without chemistry, there really wasn’t anything that pulled people together. Until recently, he’d only never believed they had good chemistry. But, as turned out, they had phenomenal chemistry. The sparkling, electric kind.

While Alex had for a while now experienced some wayward desire to expand his horizon across the gender line, the idea of crossing said line with Miles held a special kind of allure.

He was just as adventurous; he was just as aware of their attraction and he was just as reckless about possible fallout. He was roguish and provocative, and he did it with a swagger that matched Alex’s own.

Only, unlike Alex, who, most of the time, couldn’t help himself, Miles never took their spark towards something inflammable. He’d meant it when he’d said he’d never kiss him. Alex knew. And he understood why, as well. There was history between them.

A very shaky, very fragile trust.

Only, when they got close, when they were close enough to feel each other’s heat, Alex yearned to be lit up and set aflame as he’d never done before!

He took his cigarette, smiled, and handed it to Miles. This time, they kept things innocent. They were, after all, walking down a busy sidewalk. “Are we going somewhere specific?”

“Coffee shop,” said Miles, handing back the butt. As he said it, they arrived. “Want anything?”

“Coffee.”

Miles chuckled. “How boring. Come on, live a little!”

“By drinking fancy coffee?” Alex shook his head, laughing. He placed his hand on Miles’ back, spread it there, felt the heat as he guided him inside. Sometimes, he loved burning his fingertips as much as he enjoyed teasing Miles. “Let’s see what adventures they have on their menu.”

As they made their way inside, Miles kept his amused expression. He reached behind himself, grabbed Alex’s hand and pulled it up and around his shoulder, holding on to it as he moved towards the counter.

Had he done that on purpose? Was he seeking closer contact deliberately? Was he even aware of how close he’d pulled him, wondered Alex, as his impish side made him lean closer and press his hip against Miles’.

“One large Iced Coffee with extra cream for me and my friend will take a…?”

Alex smirked as he took his sunglasses off. “One large Iced Coffee with Caramel, extra foam, extra cream, extra vanilla, and what other extras are there…let’s see? You got sprinkles?” He meant it as a joke, but the barista merely shrugged.

“Light or dark chocolate?”

“Dark.”

“You got a sweet tooth, don’t you?” He let go of his hand and paid for the coffees, then handed Alex’s to him. “Certainly looks fancy and adventurous!”

As Alex stared at what he’d ordered, he chuckled. He didn’t even know why he’d ordered it. He’d gone for the craziest shit he could think of. “Want a taste?” He took the lid off and offered the cup to Miles.

“Just a few sprinkles,” said Miles as he swiped his finger across the artfully decorated top. He brought it to his mouth, licked along his finger and moaned. “Tasty.”

“Yes?” Alex’s attention remained on Miles’ finger and the remnant of foam that lingered there. Surprising himself more than anyone, he wrapped his hand around Miles’ and singled out his finger, bringing it to his own mouth, where he slowly sucked it inside.

They stood inside a busy coffee shop, surrounded by people who could actually recognize them and they were acting like a bloody couple who couldn’t stop touching each other. As Alex took pure delight in Miles’ shell-shocked face, he swirled his tongue around his finger once, stroke across the tip and released it with a pop, all the while sporting the grandest smirk imaginable. “Delectable.”

Utter astonishment drifted away and made room for a slow, salacious smile that settled on Miles’ face. Their gazes were firmly locked. “Riscué.”

Alex brought the cup to his lips, took a sip and shrugged, playing cool, trying to ignore that tingling that he could feel all over his skin. “You said I should live a little, right?” He put his shades back on and made his way towards the exit.

Miles fell in step next to him. Alex could have sworn he saw a hue of red on his cheeks. And there was most definitely a shyness that hadn’t been there before.

Miles tried to bite back a smile as he scratched a spot behind his ear.

Alex wondered if that was a nervous gesture. Had he made him nervous?

“You know,” spoke Miles, still not quite meeting Alex’s eyes, “there’s a real chance somebody saw that or even took video of it.”

“What’s it gonna show, huh?” Alex slowed down, looked at Miles and waited patiently for him to meet his gaze. When he finally did, Alex grinned. “I licked your finger. I’ve done worse.”

“With fingers?” asked Miles, evidently intrigued.

Alex stopped walking, and now directed all of his attention to Miles. He raised one brow. Impressed. “You’ve posed quite a blue question.”

Miles shook his head. He played coy. That blush refused to leave his cheeks, though. “You’ve got quite a dirty mind.”

“Filthier than you could ever imagine,” quipped Alex with a sly smile. “How’s your coffee?” He positively drawled.

Miles laughed hard. “That sounded ridiculously obscene.”

They resumed walking and drinking their respective coffees. Each carried a smile on his lips. And Alex found himself immensely pleased by all this innuendo.

He hadn’t planned on anything, hadn’t intended to bloody lick Miles’ finger, least of all he had intended to sneakily glance down at Miles to see if this whole finger-licking thing might have triggered something else entirely. But, it came so naturally whenever they were close.

Whether it was fighting or flirting, yelling or conversing, it was as though they were meant to bounce off one another. And even though he’d yet to say goodbye, Alex already craved seeing him again. “When shall I pick you up later?”

“I’ll have lunch with my mother. Got to spend a bit of time with her. Let’s say three-ish? Unless you got plans. I don’t want to hog all of your time.”

“Hog away,” reassured Alex. “I got no other plans.” He actually had planned on going to the gym. And he had wanted to try and write something. Anything. But, at the moment, nothing could compete with Miles. Within the span of few days, they had gone from bickering enemies to joined at the hip.

They reached Miles’ apartment building and Alex walked up to his car, which was parked at the curb. “See you later.” He opened the door, was halfway inside already when Miles called out for him.

“Wait!” There was that shyness again. “Or you could stay for lunch…”

Alex bit his lip as a smile widened there. “I could do that…”

.

**Spoiler Chapter Five**

#

As Miles listened to Alex and his mother having an honest conversation, something strikingly stunning occurred to him: Alex was making an effort to be likable – something Miles had never seen him do for anyone – and he did it for him. He truly, genuinely wanted his mother to like him!

#

Alex shoved Jeff’s hand off Miles’ shoulder and placed his own there. “Miles happens to be busy tonight having drinks with _this_ mainstream rock star.” He pointed at himself.

#


	5. Not That Long Ago

Chapter 5

“Is he going to have dinner with us, then?” Pauline Kane crossed her arms and pinned Alex to the wall with a fierce glare. He looked veritably intimidated.

Miles bit his cheeks from laughing. “Mom, it's okay.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kane, it's okay. You told me you liked the idea of me and Miles becoming friends.” As Alex spoke up, bits of his sass mingled with large parts of respect. And, maybe, fear. “Want me to stand in the corner until dinner is ready? You know, for all the bad words I said to your son?”

Seeing the smirk on Alex's face, Miles winced and mouthed a warning, “Stop it!” But Alex shrugged innocently.

Pauline's eyes sharpened. She took a step towards Alex, who couldn't take one backward since he was already flat against the wall. “Young man, don't tempt me to have a chat with your mother about that loose tongue of yours. I maybe like the idea of you and my Miles becoming friends, but I have yet to start liking _you_. So, it would do you well to keep your wisecracking remarks to yourself and begin peeling the potatoes.” She uncrossed her arms, reached behind her and went for the knife which she then handed to him. “You have peeled potatoes before, right?”

“Yes, Mrs. Kane. I hate doing it, so, naturally, my mom makes me do it whenever she can.”

“In that case, I like her already.” She left the room.

Alex let out a deep breath. Wiping strands of hair out of his face, he turned towards Miles and raised a brow. “Feisty.”

Miles laughed. “You haven't seen anything yet.” He reached for a second knife and joined him in his task. “The first time I got home drunk as a teenager, she made him scrub the toilet three times a day for an entire week. She knows how to get what she wants. But there's nobody in the world who can love more fiercely. She never assigns blame, and whatever the problem may be, she always knows the solution. She just doesn't understand our thing. As far as she knows, we’ve spent the last decade going for each other’s throats. She doesn’t know the details or the layers. She’s protective of me. Always has been. But once she gets to know you a little better, she’ll fall for you in a heartbeat. Trust me.”

Alex chuckled as he went to work; doubt still clung to him, though. “She seems to be under the impression that I'm the evil one between the two of us, and you're the innocent victim.” He glanced sideways at Miles, slyly. “Does she know that you’re not the lovely choir boy she seems to assume you are? You almost got me arrested!”

“I had nothing to do with that one,” professed Miles innocuously, feeling not the least amount of guilt for what he considered a perfectly executed little joke.

Their arms kept brushing against one another, and Miles wondered if he should take a step to his side, to open some space between them. But Alex must have noticed, too. There was no way that he had not. And if Alex felt no desire to take a step away from him, why should Miles do so? Why should he put a stop to something that he liked?

Now, though, the contact stopped. Alex gaped at him. He had put the knife down and leaned with his hip against the counter, hands at his waist. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?” Miles met his eyes. “You asked me if I had seen the Gibson and I told you where it was.”

“I asked you if you had seen _my_ Gibson. Not _the_ Gibson. And you know I was looking for _my_ guitar and not that of Mick Fucking Jagger!”

“You did not say _your_ Gibson. You said _the_ Gibson. And you grabbed Jagger's guitar. Thank God he understood the slip-up.”

“Yes,” agreed Alex with a snort. “Else, he'd have called the police! He still calls me the little mushroom that tried to steal from him. Did you know that? All because you deliberately played dumb!”

“That was a really fun night, wasn't it?” Miles smiled gleefully.

Alex snorted again. “Not for me.”

Miles resumed peeling and he began to chuckle as something occurred to him. “Is that why Jamie keeps using the mushroom emoji whenever he texts you? I thought it was code for drugs or something.”

“No,” laughed Alex, “that's just his mean sense of humor.”

Grabbing knife and potato, Alex got back to work.

“Mushroom…” mumbled Miles, trying to fight his laughter.

Alex tossed a slice of potato peel at him.

Giving up, Miles let his amusement get the best of him. Task once again forgotten, he dropped the half-peeled thing and his knife as he turned around, leaning with his back against the counter, observing Alex. The smile faded away, a bit at a time, and soon he just stood there, quietly and fascinated.

“It's distracting,” admitted Alex after a while, calmly, not meeting his eyes. “Your attention…It does things. Odd things.”

“Like what,” whispered Miles, deeply intrigued by that sudden and honest admittance.

Looking away from the job at hand, forward, to the wall, Alex shrugged. “Makes me…aware…like, it brings to life every single sense, every nerve-ending.” His voice was low.

Miles leaned closer. Involuntarily. There was an immense pull between them. And, instead of fighting it, he too easily allowed it to take a grip on him. “Does it make you feel uncomfortable?”

Alex faced Miles and shook his head slowly, deliberately. “No.”

Wasn't it ridiculous? On stage, he and Alex were some of the world's cockiest bastards. But, here, in his kitchen, whispering to each other while his mother was busy in the next room, he suddenly felt vastly insecure and out of his depth. As did Alex, he'd wager, judging by his reddish cheeks.

How had that happened? They'd yelled at each other from the top of their lungs. There were moments when they'd been so close to throwing punches that people had physically pulled them apart!

He kept his gaze on Alex, who kept his on him.

“Boys, how…am I interrupting something?”

Miles leaned back quickly, feeling the strangest notion of having gotten caught doing something dangerous. “No! All's fine.” He looked at Alex, who quickly busied himself with yet another potato. Together, they had managed to peel seven whole ones. Which, truth be told, he considered a stellar achievement. “Two for you, two for me, three for my mother?”

Alex chuckled, visibly relaxing at Miles’ joke. “Sounds perfect.”

“Right, mom?”

Pauline sighed as she shook her head. “Just go play with the guitars until dinner's ready.”

“Thanks, mom!”

“Thanks, Mrs. Kane!”

An hour later, dinner was ready. Potatoes, fish and the inevitable addition of vegetables. Miles, who had no problems eating the colorful arrangement of carrots, corn, peas, and beans, bit back a laugh as he watched Alex meticulously avoiding even touching any of those items with his fork.

“Not a fan, ey?”

“Of healthy food?” He grimaced. “The potatoes are good, the fish…serves its purpose. The rest?”

Pauline cleared her throat. “At this table, we empty our plates.”

Alex sighed as he met her eyes. “Are you telling me to eat my vegetables because you don’t like me or is this whole empty-plates-line a mothers-thing?”

“I never said I don’t like you.”

“At least you’re being honest.” He dug into the vegetables. “Is there a way I can improve my standing with you?”

As Miles listened to Alex and his mother having an honest conversation, something strikingly stunning occurred to him: Alex was making an effort to be likable – something Miles had never seen him do for anyone – and he did it for him. He truly, genuinely wanted Miles’ mother to like him!

An unfamiliar, irritatingly fuzzy warmth filled his insides. It made him want to reassure Alex. It made him want Alex to know that his attempt was not in vain. “She likes you already, otherwise she wouldn’t even talk to you. She’s just playing tough.” He placed a hand on his back, to put him at ease, something he would never have imagined doing a mere week ago. “Don’t you, mom?”

Eyeing the both of them curiously, Pauline rolled her eyes at last and placed a hand on Alex’s arm, squeezing it gently. “You’re remarkably similar to my son, so you got that working for you. Tell you what, empty that plate and you can call me Pauline.”

“Deal,” grinned Alex and promptly went to work on the vegetables.

“It is rather fortunate that I have the two of you at my disposal,” Pauline said and dug out her phone. She placed it on the table. “As you know, Miles, I’ve been spending a bit of time in this fitness club that opened next to my apartment. It’s quite well frequented and I’ve made a few friends amongst the young ones there.”

“The young ones?” Miles blinked.

“The twenty-somethings that go there to work out. They all have music to work out to and I asked for recommendations. I got a lot of them. But I need you to do that thing where you make them appear on my phone!”

Chuckling, Miles began to understand. “You want me to make you a playlist? That I can do. What’s it that you want? Some of yours truly?” He wiggled his brows. “Or some of Alex’s music? That’s good music for working out. Or maybe some old tunes?”

“No, no. I want something new. I want to listen to this lovely young man that croons so nicely about love. What’s his name…? Oh, wait!” She held up her finger. “That nice woman made me a list of her favorite singers.” She dug through her pocket. Pulled it out. “Here it is.”

Once she placed it on the table, Alex reached for it, unfolded it and held it up between him and Miles, who read it with him. Then they grimaced simultaneously. There was plenty of cringing and hissing, as well.

“What is it? Can’t you decipher her handwriting?”

“The handwriting,” groaned Miles, “is not the issue, mom. It’s what’s on this list!”

“Harry Styles?” Alex’s face became unrecognizable. “That must be the crooner.”

“Dear God,” shot Miles, captured Alex’s attention and pointed towards the end of the list.

“Is that?”

Miles sighed deeply. “ _Nickelback_? Oh, mother…”

Pauline’s eyes widened. “What?”

“That’s a deeply disturbing list, Pauline.” Alex placed his hand on Miles’ shoulder and shook his head. He appeared profoundly shaken. “I fear for today’s youth!”

“Me, too,” spoke Miles, gravely concerned. “I mean, it starts with _Nickelback_ , but where does it end? _N’Sync_?”

Alex shuddered. “If ever I hear their tunes within the walls of this apartment, I’ll know the end is nigh!” 

“Boys!” She shook her head. “Such nonsense. I’ve heard some tunes of this Nickel…whatever. They are as nice as those songs that your holy _Beatles_ have sung.”

Alex got up from the table. “Mrs. Kane!”

Miles gaped. “Mother!”

She began laughing. “You two are crazy. Fine, I’ll figure it out myself!”

“How about we take care of it,” suggested Alex. “No _Miles_ _Kane_ , no _Arctic Monkeys_ , no _Beatles_. A little bit of everything else. How about it?”

“I want that crooner,” said Pauline sternly. “Make it happen!”

As Miles took his mother’s phone, Alex spun around and headed towards the living room. He followed him there. “If anyone, ever, finds out that I helped you with a playlist that includes _Harry Styles,_ it’ll not only be the end of my career. It’ll be the death of both our careers.”

Miles looked at the impeccably clean floor as he sat down next to him on the couch, leaned the slightest bit closer towards Alex and wondered, “want to know a secret?”

Alex leaned in just as well, taking in the floor, too. A smirk made it to his lips. “You’re hiding a _Nickelback_ record in your bedroom?”

“That’s not even funny,” said Miles. He angled his head to the side, towards Alex. “It’s worse.” A cheeky smile stretched his lips. “Way, way worse.” He really ought not to enjoy this nearness to Alex so damn much!

Alex lifted his eyes, turned to catch his gaze.

But enjoy it, he did! “It’s a Take That record.”

Shaking in silent laughter, Alex kept a firm hold on Miles’ attention, positively stunning him when he made his own confession. “I got a Spice Girls record hidden in a drawer somewhere.”

“Favorite song?”

“Wannabe.”

Both combusted in laughter.

-

“You _still_ haven’t played it?” Alex wandered leisurely amongst the rows of guitars, letting his eyes roam over the selection, yet never settling anywhere specific.

Miles, walking next to Alex, watched him and speculated what instrument would capture his attention. There was no way Alex wouldn’t find a new love in this store. He, himself, could buy a dozen on the spot. If only he had the space for them. “Told you, I can’t. I didn’t buy the Gretsch because I wanted it. It’s a magnificent guitar. But there’s no spark. No love at first sight. I got it because I knew it would piss you off. And every time I look at it, I feel bad for that.”

“Shame, though.”

“Yes.” Miles glanced towards Eddie, the owner, who was talking to some other customer. He kept watching. Tapping a finger against Alex’s hand, he tipped his head towards them. “I know that guy from somewhere. But I can’t put my finger on it. You recognize him?”

Alex observed them for a moment. “I think I saw him before. Is he in a band, maybe?”

“But what band?” Miles knew him. He’d talked to him before. But when? And where? This was driving him nuts. “I gotta find out!” 

“Miles!” Alex called after him, but Miles didn’t stop. It was one of his flaws. Knowing, but not knowing. Stuck in limbo. If the solution to a problem was in reach, he couldn’t not go for it.

Walking up to Eddie and the guy, Miles introduced himself with a polite smile and an outstretched hand. “Hi, I’m Miles Kane. I’m really sorry to just interrupt like that! It’s just…I swear we’ve met somewhere before! You look familiar!”

“We have met,” said the guy. And smiled back. “I saw you when I got here. I thought you looked familiar, too! Glastonbury. Few months ago. The party? Our girlfriends bonded over handbags. My band didn’t play on the big stage. It’s Jeff.” He finally shook Miles’ hand. “You got into with that prick from the _Arctic Monkeys_ and we made fun of him afterward!”

The smile fell from Miles’ face. “Oh.” He became aware of Alex, who was not next to him, but still nearby. He had no doubt that Alex had heard Jeff’s words. “That…um…yes, we did that.” He began to remember. His hands fidgeted nervously with his shirtsleeves.

Alex had gotten under his skin that night for pointing out, as arrogantly and as gleefully as had been possible, that Miles had messed up his own lyrics, which had truly unnerved him. He’d only messed up after he had spotted Alex side-stage and he’d been so startled to find him there, looking as though he was actually enjoying the show, that he’d promptly forgotten the words to the stanza. “About that—”

“I believe you said you found it remarkable that a person so small could contain an ego that big and inflated.” The guy laughed.

Miles winced.

Oh God. Liquor and damaged pride did not mix well, evidently. He glanced around, trying to spot Alex, but he was nowhere in sight. Could it be? Was luck on his side? Maybe he hadn’t heard it, then?

Jeff placed a hand on Miles’ shoulder, chuckling. “We should have drinks tonight! There’s plenty of other stuff about that Turner that we could make fun of. And when we’re done with him, we’ll go for the rest of the mainstream rock groups!”

Miles was about to put an end to his plan when he felt Alex’s presence behind him. He hadn’t seen him walk up or heard him do it or even smelled him once he arrived. But he knew he was there. He felt it. He felt the change in the air around them. There was a crackling now. An electric current that made every hair on his body stand straight.

Alex shoved Jeff’s hand off Miles’ shoulder and placed his own there. “Miles happens to be busy tonight having drinks with _this_ mainstream rock star.” He pointed at himself.

Briefly catching Alex’s eyes, Miles put all of his guilt and vast amounts of regret into his expression, but Alex seemed to take no note of that. There was an iciness to him that he instantly hated. The hand on his shoulder felt like death’s cold scythe.

“And,” continued Alex, with a smugness that even astonished Miles, “just so you know, next time you make fun of me and mainstream success, remember, it is the very success that you so desperately crave yet will accomplish.”

“Excuse me?” Jeff’s jaw hit the floor.

Miles gaped at Alex.

And Alex? He smiled, the epitome of superiority and contempt.

“He really proves your point, huh?” Looking from Miles to Alex, Jeff snorted. “People are right about you, Turner! You really are a talentless prick!” 

Miles cut Alex off before he had a chance to respond. “He’s got more talent in his little fingernail than you and your whole band and every other band in a fifty-mile radius have combined!”

“The fuck? I thought you hated that guy!”

“You thought wrong,” stated Miles, firmly.

“Hey, there!” Eddie interjected, apparently worried for the peace within his walls. “Jeff, let’s finish our talk over there!” He dragged him away, tossing a dirty glare at Miles and Alex on his way off.

Aware of Alex’s hand, which still rested on his shoulder, Miles let his gaze drop to the floor until he’d gathered enough courage to meet Alex’s eyes. “I’m so sorry!”

Alex pulled his hand away and even though it was fucking hot, not just outside, but also inside the store, Miles had never felt more cold in his life.

At least you find me talented,” remarked Alex, emotionless. He walked back to a Telecaster and fiddled with the neck. “It hurt. Hearing that.”

Miles’ heart sank as he stepped closer to Alex, suddenly in desperate need of his proximity. “I didn’t mean it. You know that! We’ve said worse to each other’s faces, Alex!”

“Maybe.” He met Miles’ eyes, offered the smallest, however sad, smile. “I know, okay? I’ve probably done the same at some point. God knows what I said about you,” he admitted bemusedly. “Just…I find I care about your opinion of me a lot more than I had thought. To hear that you think so poorly of me—”

“I don’t, Alex. You have to believe me!” Miles came to stand directly in front of him. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but you have to trust me when I say that this whole thing…it has a lot more to do with myself than with you. _I_ was in a bad place that night.”

“Was it something I said?”

He shook his head. “Not exactly. That just tipped the needle.” Part of him wanted to tell him about the reason he’d messed up those lyrics. But another part, the one that watched out for his heart, didn’t dare to. That day, during his gig, something had happened. He’d felt something. But he was neither ready to admit that to himself, nor to Alex. “When I said I’m drawn to your arrogance, I meant that. I swear. It’s not putting me off. And even though you have a huge ego, I know that you deserve it. You work hard, you’re insanely talented, and you’re _that_ good at what you do. I was drunk and stupid when I hung out with him.” The tiniest, most daring smirk appeared on his face as he leaned in even closer, to catch Alex’s eyes. “And you’re not that small,” he whispered.

“Quite the opposite,” grinned Alex slowly, biting his lip, glancing away almost shyly in the most adorable way Miles had ever seen.

It made his smile grow coy. They were back to their witty ways. “That’s not what I was referencing.” He dipped his head in an effort to catch Alex’s gaze again because it felt so good to see him smiling again. At the same time, though, there was a new intensity to it. A searing heat. And he could already feel the burn marks on his soul.

A steady smile settled on Alex’s face. His mouth was the tiniest bit ajar, and Miles could see his tongue as it just rested there, in his mouth. What it would taste like, he wondered. He was staring, now. He knew. Miles tried to tear his eyes away. If only he could.

“The guitar,” spoke Alex. Huskily. “We should…”

“Get it?” Miles swallowed hard. “Yes!”

At the register, he reached for his wallet when Alex stopped him. “Let me. I got an idea.”

“Alex, this isn’t coffee or dinner, it’s a really expensive guitar!”

“I know that!” He handed over his own credit card, nonetheless. “Just wait,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

Once done, Alex handed the guitar along with its new case to Miles and smiled widely. “For you. One guitar. As a sign of my intention of becoming friends with you, I make you this gift.”

“You’ve lost it,” said Miles as he took it.

Alex tsk-ed. “I think it would only be fair if, as a token of your own intention of becoming friends with me, you make me a gift as well.” The smile turned sly. “You know…the 1957, black and white kind of gift.”

Sudden laughter surged from Miles. “You’re bloody nuts! Consider it yours. You’ve been waiting long enough for it!” Guitar in one hand, he pushed the door open with the other one and was positively delighted when Alex curled an arm around his shoulder, holding him close while walking next to him. 

“Let’s get it now.”

“What happened to getting coffee?”

“Let me get my guitar first.” His smile was blinding. There was such a happiness to him that Miles couldn’t help but feel it, too.

He wrapped his arm around Alex, squeezing his side. “Let’s go, then.”

.

.

**Spoiler Chapter Six:**

#

“I know you said you’d never kiss me,” whispered Alex, “but does the thought of it ever cross your mind?” He felt his breath hitching in his throat as Miles’ nearness threatened to overwhelm him. In his vicinity, his senses slipped into perpetual overdrive. “How would you do it? Would it be wild and ravenous or—”

“Slow.”

#

Alex cocked his head, raised a brow and smirked. “You’re fooling yourself if you think you can resist me.”

#


	6. Slow

Chapter 6

Jamie sat on Alex’s leather couch, sprawled out, a guitar in his lap, absentmindedly strumming away. “You’re still not ready to share your new songs?” He sounded slightly annoyed over that. “At all?”

Alex looked away. Sitting on the floor, the 1957 Gretsch in his lap, he sighed. “I’m working on it, Jamie. I’m getting there. I’m not happy with what I’ve got so far.” He had absolutely nothing and was certainly unhappy about that.

“I’d be happy to help you!”

“I know. It’s taking longer, this time around. Can’t you understand that I need a bit of time?”

“Take all the time in the world, Alex.” He put the guitar away, sat up straighter. “Take a decade, for all I care! You’ve never shut us out before!”

“I’m not… It’s—”

“Whatever. You’re not ready. Okay.”

The look of concern on Jamie’s face, mixed with traces of frustration, made Alex restless. He fidgeted with the pick in his hand, then played with the nubs. “What else is new with you? How’s the kid doing?”

“Very well. You should drop by. It’s been a while. What are you doing in London all by yourself?”

“I’m not by myself.”

“Who are you hanging out with, then? Matt is in LA. Nick is traveling.”

“I have friends,” he pointed out, irritated. He wasn’t a loner. And he had a life apart from the band.

Jamie raised his brow in doubt.

“People. I’m hanging out with people.” And it really wasn’t a lie! For the past two weeks, he’d been hanging out with various people. But mostly with Miles. Almost every day. Whether it was coffee, dinner, drinks or clubs, or just chilling at either one’s apartment. When they did go somewhere, they were bound to run into others. Miles, Alex had discovered, knew nearly everyone in London. And those he didn’t know yet, he endeavored to get to know.

He was infinitely excited by the prospect of talking to strangers and hearing stories that might inspire him. And because he was so good at listening and so easy to be around, people almost always instantly liked him.

Alex was a bit more reserved when it came to strangers and getting conversations started, but in the company of Miles, even he got better at it. And it helped that Miles never strayed too far from his side.

It were, of course, the conversations with Miles that Alex enjoyed the most. They had so much to talk about that it took his mind in. Shared memories, shared stories, different takes on different topics and, naturally, a lot of unfinished arguments that they had started to resolve one at a time.

They just clicked.

More than that. Alex thrived in Miles’ company. He felt happy and carefree and breathtakingly bold.

Their fragile trust had begun to deepen, which led to him growing braver in his presence. He no longer hesitated to touch him. Sometimes, he’d wrap his arm around Miles’ shoulder to keep him close, even when they were out in public. Other times, he’d place his hand on his shoulder blades just to feel the warmth that radiated from there. When he had a few and forgot that life held consequences, he slipped his hand to the small of his back, knowing it had a wicked effect on Miles for he always arched the second Alex’s fingers spread there.

Miles was more hesitant in that regard. He had more control over his actions. But when he slipped up, when his need to touch Alex got the better of him, Alex relished every last second of it. That’s when Miles’ hand traveled languidly up and down Alex’s arm, or, if he got really lucky, his waist.

But whereas Alex enjoyed physical contact and initiating it, Miles could drive Alex insane just by looking at him. There was a wild power in his eyes. A depth that held immeasurable temptation. Miles had the kind of eyes that could ruin a life. Too beautiful to resist, yet too dangerous to give into. One day, Alex was certain of it, he’d look too deep and never return. The idea scared him and excited him at the same time.

“Saw a picture of you and Miles online. Out in a club, somewhere. What did you fight about this time?”

Jamie’s words startled Alex. He’d yet to tell his friends that he and Miles had become friends. “Uh…nothing. We just…did not fight.”

Eyes wide, Jamie asked, “like, at all?”

“No,” stressed Alex. “Not at all. I mean…” He struggled. “…we have to tour together. Right?”

“When has that ever stopped you before?”

“I can be a grown-up!” Most of the time he didn’t want to, but he was capable of making wise decisions. And while he might be keeping bits of the truth to himself, it stung a bit that Jamie had so little faith in him.

“Sorry!” He held up his hands in surrender. “I applaud your effort. Just surprised, that’s all.” He checked the time. “Almost seven. Should we go grab a bite?”

Miles would be here soon. “Er…” He scratched his head sheepishly. “Kind of got plans. You showed up without warning.”

“Are you kicking me out?” Thank God Jamie was laughing about it.

Alex did feel bad. But if Jamie stayed around, he’d find out that Miles and he were hanging out. He’d probably even like that since he was good friends with Miles as well.

Only, Alex was at a point in his budding friendship with Miles in which he was neither ready nor willing to share.

“Not kicking you out,” said Alex. “Wanna meet for breakfast?”

“My wife is in town with me. No need to toss a pity breakfast at me.”

“Oh, so you were tossing a pity dinner at me? Leaving your wife alone at the hotel so your sad, pathetic friend won’t have to eat alone?”

Jamie was chuckling as he gathered his jacket. “Happy to know you’re going out and living life. That’s all. Call me, okay? Let’s meet tomorrow. Maybe you’re willing to write a little. And if not, that’s fine as well.”

Alex rolled his eyes when Jamie patted his head. A silly gesture that made him feel like a toddler. But he knew his friend meant well and so he let him do it. “Bye Jamie!”

“Bye Alex.”

-

Alex sat at the bar, beer in hand, a grim glare on his face. His eyes were glued to the blonde in front of him. She of the high heels and she of the mean stares. She, also known as _Miles’ Girlfriend_ , or _The One Whose Name Alex Just_ _Couldn’t Remember_. Had he known she’d come along, he’d have gone out with Jamie instead. _She_ was currently plastering herself completely against Miles and from the looks of it, Miles wasn’t all that happy about it.

Why wasn’t he putting an end to it, then?

Alex finished his beer and turned to the bartender. “Make it a Whiskey, this time. Better make it two.”

“Somebody is in a rush to get drunk,” she commented. Snidely.

Alex smiled as insincerely as he could muster. “ _Somebody_ should mind her own business.”

“ _Somebody_ is a little bitch tonight,” she volleyed back.

Grabbing the glass of Whiskey as tightly as he could, Alex bit back what he so desperately wanted to say. He settled for a kinder comeback. “Takes one to know one.”

She turned to Miles, who was rolling his eyes to hell and back. “You really let him talk to me like that? What’s with you, huh? Since when do you hang out with _him_?”

Miles’ voice was hollow and exhausted when he explained that, “I told you, we have to tour together and try to be nicer to each other. I’m sure he’d appreciate it if you joined in on the effort.”

Oh, _he_ couldn’t care less, thought Alex.

However, he did notice that Miles also avoided being honest about the state of their friendship. He, as Alex himself had done with Jamie, blamed the tour for their joined outing. He didn’t mention a mutual longing to spend time together.

“Let’s dance,” she suggested, dragging her false crimson nails along the side of Miles’ jaw. “Away from him.”

“You dance,” suggested Miles. “Let me have a talk with Alex, okay?”

That, she appeared to like. “Put him in place, baby!”

Miles waited for her to turn around, then took a seat closer to Alex and leaned toward him. “I had no idea she was in town. I’d have warned you. She showed up as I got into the cab and…”

A snort slipped from Alex’s nose. “Solid relationship, Kane.”

Miles leaned back, glared. “Really?”

It took him a second to figure out that Miles took offense at the use of his last name, but Alex was a little bit drunk and vastly bothered by the fact that now there was a third wheel. Which, as it turned out, was he, himself. “Yes, really! I need some air, okay? Maybe I’ll leave. Go enjoy your reunion.”

Allowing Miles no chance to reply, Alex hurried through the crowd and out of the back.

Two minutes later, he was leaning against the wall of a dimly lit alley on the backside of the club, cursing furiously.

“You forgot your jacket,” said Miles as he leaned back next to him. “And cigarettes.” He held up both.

Alex grabbed both. He lit himself a cigarette. Away from people, away from _her_ and her display of affection for Miles, he began to relax. “Jamie dropped by today. He saw a picture of us.”

“He did?” Miles turned to his side, towards Alex. They were almost touching. He reached out and smiled softly as he plucked the Marlboro from Alex’s lips to bring it to his own.

Facing Miles, Alex dipped forward, bringing their foreheads so very close together. From below his lashes, he looked up at him. “Told him we’re playing nice for the tour. Just like you told her.”

“It’s none of her business that we’re friends.”

Miles took another drag from the cigarette before bringing it back to Alex’s mouth. He’d parted his lips expectantly. The moment his lips closed around the butt, Miles exhaled. The heavy smoke wrapped around them like a protective shield, ineffective though it was. If anything, it was a cloud of danger, in so many ways.

“Are we friends?” asked Alex. The thickness of his voice made him barely recognize it as his own.

The soft smile made way for hurt as Miles worriedly asked, “Are we not?”

“Are we _just_ friends?” Alex asked again, yet posing an entirely different question. This one was loaded and explosive and came out entirely unexpected. Alex had no idea what made him say it.

But, not that far away was a woman who believed Miles was hers. And out here, in the dark, entwined with him by a cigarette, was Alex, at times imagining that Miles was his.

Miles swallowed hard. “I don’t know how to answer that.”

“That, by itself, answers it. Does it not?” His uneven, almost unsteady words were proof that he was well aware of the gravity of what they were discussing. “If you can’t say _no_ , then isn’t the logical conclusion that the answer is _yes_?”

Miles slowly shook his head. A shimmer of uncertainty crossed his features. “I don’t think the answer to your question is the _yes_ or _no_ type.” As Miles reached out to take possession, once again, of the cigarette, which gradually died in Alex’s hand, their fingers brushed against another. Their attention went there. Their hands lingered. Time froze.

“I know you said you’d never kiss me,” whispered Alex, “but does the thought of it ever cross your mind?” He felt his breath hitching in his throat as Miles’ nearness threatened to overwhelm him. In his vicinity, his senses slipped into perpetual overdrive. “How would you do it? Would it be wild and ravenous or—”

“Slow.” Miles spoke so low, so huskily, that Alex could barely hear him and was forced to move closer. He saw black, gluttonous desire clout Miles’ eyes and got lost in it, helplessly. “It would be slow. It would be like sunset, inevitable. At the beginning, we would melt into something warm and soft. And we would linger. We would luxuriate in one another, until, inescapably, the darkness would take a greedy hold on us, stripping away our innocence and coating us in sin. Our lips…”

Alex was hypnotized, hanging on every word. “Our lips would what?” His voice was strained. His body was needy.

Miles tore his eyes away, dropped his hand, and pressed his back against the hard brick wall. His chest moved rapidly.

Up.

Down.

No, found Alex. Black wouldn’t begin to describe the darkness that had filled Miles’s eyes. As he racked his brain for a better term, he longed for a cigarette. And, maybe, an orgasm.

_Slow_.

The word reverberated through every vein in Alex’s body. He gulped, licked his dry lips and turned away as well, trying and failing to gain control over his thoughts.

_Slow_.

He let those four letters silently dissolve on his tongue as his head filled with images of them, drowning in desire, underneath the dark red light of a setting sky. 

_Slow_.

How could one word undo him so entirely? How could an image, painted by words and colored by want, be more profound than the very act that he’d experienced so often before? Alex began to wonder, had he ever been kissed before? Truly, thoroughly kissed?

Miles moved away from the wall, hastily, startling Alex as he did it. “We should get back inside,” he said, the words coming out shakily. “Back…to where people are.”

“You go.” Alex remained in place. Still reeling. He was in no condition to return, let alone witness any more interaction between Miles and his girlfriend. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Instead of meeting his eyes, Miles merely nodded as he headed back in.

-

“I thought you wanted to have breakfast with your wife,” grumbled Alex, wearing briefs and his shirt from last night, wiping the hard-earned sleep from his drowsy eyes. “What time is it anyway?”

“Almost eleven,” Jamie remarked, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “Rough night?”

“You could say that.”

Traipsing aimlessly into the living room, then rerouting towards the kitchen, Alex finally arrived at the coffee maker. Which held no coffee.

_Perfect._

His half-asleep state barely allowed for him to function and he couldn’t recall where he kept the coffee. He checked the nearest cupboard but found none.

_Where is it?_ wondered Alex, scratching his unkempt hair.

Jamie must have taken pity on him. “Sit down, will you? Let me make coffee!” He went to work. “Christ, Alex. How much did you drink last night?”

Uncharacteristically little, he wanted to point out. But failed when he forgot to say it out loud and merely thought it, instead. He wasn’t hungover on alcohol. He’d be functioning a lot better if he were!

No.

He was hungover on confusion and regret. Memories of last night’s encounter with Miles had kept him awake almost all night. His fucking mesmerizing eyes had haunted him in the darkness of his bedroom, his tantalizing lips had made his own ones feel cold and lonely and the look on his face when he’d filled his head with the image of how he’d…

The word _slow_ still echoed in his ears.

He knew, _knew_ that Miles wanted him. It was palpable, visible, undeniable! And if it were any other person, Alex would have gone for it. He’d have taken the lead and gone straight for the lips! But with Miles?

Miles wasn’t just any person.

And it wouldn’t be just any kiss.

“So, who did you go out with?”

Glancing up, drifting out of his thoughts, Alex blinked. “With M—, with some guys I know from some gig we did…strangers, really. We had a few drinks, talked about concerts, nothing special.”

Jamie got the coffee going. “Anyone I know?”

“Nah. I don’t know. Maybe. How is Katie doing? Did you two have a nice night out? London is great for a romantic evening!”

“I know,” chuckled Jamie, meeting Alex’s eyes. “I’ve lived here before.”

Alex shrugged. “Alright.” He was about to say something else when Jamie’s phone began to ring.

“‘Scuse me,” he said, heading out on the balcony to take it.

The doorbell rang and Alex made his way there. Looking down at himself, he sighed. Presentable, he was not. Whoever it was, he or she would have to make do with his sleepy state. He pulled the door open. “Fuck!”

Miles’ eyes went wide. “Good morning?”

Alex looked over his shoulder, checking for Jamie. Nowhere in sight! Grabbing Miles’ arm, he tugged him inside and maneuvered them into his bedroom. “Jamie is here!”

“Okay?”

“How am I supposed to explain to him that you’re here?”

“In your bedroom?” Miles grinned as he leaned back against Alex’s dresser. “That, I’d like to know as well!”

Driving both hands through the tangled strands of his unruly hair, Alex groaned hard. It was too early, and he was too tired for this shit. “What are you doing here?”

The grin fell from Miles’ face. “Trying to clear the air. Last night ended kind of weird, wouldn’t you say?”

“How about calling first?!”

“Have you ever called before showing up at my place?”

“No,” conceded Alex as he paced his bedroom. “But—”

“But what?” Miles stepped away from the dresser and took a long look around the room.

Alex stopped pacing and watched Miles taking a visual inventory of it all. He was strangely curious about his opinion. Did he like it? It really wasn’t much of anything, his bedroom. A white-walled, barely decorated room with tall windows and little order. Vinyls, CDs and tapes were resting on every surface. A colorful selection of guitars was placed in various corners. One lay on his unmade bed. A massive sound-system was hooked up on one wall, next to the door which led to his closet. The bedroom had a walk-in closet. But it was hardly filled with wearable items. It was stuffed with more guitars, old journals, some amps he no longer used but couldn’t give up on.

A pile of crumpled white paper sheets towered near the dresser, and underneath it was a full bin with more of the same. His failed writing attempts.

“Do you realize,” Miles said, smiling amusedly, “that you and I have almost the same collection of guitars? Different colors, maybe. But the same types.”

“I’d assume that’s because it’s a very rare guitar that you and I don’t have.” Alex spotted his terry robe on the floor by the foot of his bed, picked it up and put it on.

“Thank you for that. Seeing you in your underwear was becoming impossible to ignore.”

For a split second, Alex took offense, took his words as an insult. Until he spotted the smirk on Miles’ lips. And the glint in his eyes. Then he wondered, was that flirting? Had he done it on purpose, or had it just slipped out?

The corner of Alex’s mouth lifted slyly. His eyes lingered on Miles’. Should he flirt back? Shit, how did one flirt? He’d forgotten! Instead of speaking, he settled for a look instead. Coy. Intrigued.

Miles looked back tempted.

It lasted a few moments, maybe only seconds, though, until Miles tore his gaze away, directing it to the floor. “Listen…about last night…”

“Talking about this kind of thing has never made anything better,” said Alex as he tied the belt of his robe. “What’s to say anyway?” He really didn’t want to rehash any of it. “Nothing happened.”

Miles seemed wary. “I guess. It’s just…I had the sense that you weren’t happy last night, that maybe I had done something…”

_You brought your girlfriend._

But Alex didn’t say that. It wasn’t Miles’ fault that Alex had a newly developed problem with jealousy.

“Alex, where are you?” Jamie was calling from the hallway.

Alex looked at the door, past Miles. “Shit! Bedroom, getting dressed,” he called back. “I’ll be out in a minute!” Turning to Miles, he attempted to look reassuring. “Last night…you didn’t—”

“I broke up with her.”

Alex was speechless.

“We…” Miles walked to the window, away from him. “I told you I’d planned on doing it for a while. And last night…I mean, you and I…we almost…”

Did Miles break up with his girlfriend because of him? “Kissed?” He whispered.

Miles’ head drooped forward. “We should really avoid dark alleys.”

_Or actively seek them out!_

Alex spotted a dirty sock on the floor, picked it up and tossed it onto the small pile of items to wash. What should he do now? He was lost as he stood in the middle of his bedroom, a few feet away from Miles, as that statement weighted down the air between them.

“Al, come on. How long do you need?” Jamie again.

He rolled his eyes. Hard. Didn’t Jamie know that he was in the midst of a moment with Miles?

Well. Of course, not. Jamie didn’t even know Miles was here. “Bloody wait, will you?! Just a minute!”

“Life is complicated right now. And stressful. And so much more.” Miles walked up to Alex. “I like this friendship that we have. Sometimes we slip and we slide, but we are friends, are we not?”

“Yes,” agreed Alex.

“Just friends?”

What might have been a hopeful gaze fell to the ground and bombed. That question sounded so different coming from Miles. When Miles asked it, his words exposed a desperate desire for reassurance, for acknowledgment, for accepting the borders that came with such a term.

When Alex had asked it, the words had carried hope and longing and a wish to light the fuse and blow the borders to smithereens.

He lifted his gaze, met Miles’. And nodded. If that was what he wanted… “Friends.”

“Turner!” Jamie was growing restless.

Miles smiled. “It’s different when he calls you that.”

“Sounds awful,” said Alex and headed for the door.

“Wait! He thinks you got dressed!”

“Damnit!” Alex slipped into his closet and reemerged a moment later, wearing jeans and a white button-down shirt. “Well?” He twirled and posed, laughing. “Presentable?”

“Flawless. Almost. Hold on!” Miles took a few steps and recklessly invaded his personal space. He reached out. And he stopped Alex’s heart from beating when he gently brushed a few wayward curls from his forehead.

Miles, too, seemed stunned by what he’d done. His eyes were wide. His hand froze mid-move. His focus glided towards Alex’s eyes. Then to his lips.

_Just friends?_

_Never!_

Feeling emboldened and wicked and overcome by regret for not kissing him last night, when he had the chance, Alex cocked his head, raised a brow and smirked. “You’re fooling yourself if you think you can resist me.”

Miles stepped backward, hands by his side.

Alex took a step forward. “We are friends,” he spoke, his voice gruff. “But we will never be _just_ friends. You and I, we’ll never be _just_ anything. And you know it. I can see that you do.” Another step closer. He slowly lifted his hand and as he gently placed it on Miles’ cheek, unable not to smirk when he felt him twitch, Alex grew bolder. He kept it there, felt him shudder under his touch as his fingers spread, and took that as his answer. He felt the little scratchy hairs of his unshaved beard, the strikingly soft skin of his face, the heat that drifted from it. And he grinned victoriously into Miles’ stunned eyes. “I think you want me to cross the line.”

Leaning forward, Alex closed his eyes as he touched the tip of his nose to Miles’ other cheek. He brushed his lips against his skin, hovering, teasing, taking sheer pleasure in the way Miles’ breathing became uneven. Then he did it. He pressed his lips to his cheek. To the very edge of it, right there, by his earlobe.

The fine hairs tickled his lips. The scent of his cologne made him forget time and day. And Miles’ hot breath crashed so forcefully against Alex’s neck that he almost tumbled over.

Miles gasped. Dazed.

Alex retreated. Dazed as well. But playing cool.

“Jamie is waiting for me.” He wore a smug and satisfied smile. “I’ll let you know when the air is clear.” One hand reached out, touched Miles’ stomach and leisurely slid across it. The muscles jolted underneath his fingertips.

His abs were hard and solid and boundlessly intriguing. Alex wanted to strip him bare and find out just how many sinful secrets those ridges held. He wanted to trace those lines with his tongue. He wanted to experience what it was like to make Miles lose control. He wanted to be the one to make him lose control.

But he let go. His gaze leisurely drifted away from him, but the grin remained. “Watch out for me.”

He reached the door. And left the room.

.

.

**Spoiler Chapter 7.**

#

“Are you here with me?”

“Yes, I am,” said Miles. Annoyed. Still confused. “And I was enjoying spending time with you until—”

“No, Miles.” Alex looked at him now. “Are you here with me?”

“I said yes.”

Alex took a step towards Miles, who, in return, took a step back. His back hit the wall. Alex came closer. And Miles had no escape left. “You’re not listening.” He placed both hands on Miles’ stomach, right above the line of his belt. Flat. Unmoving. Holding him in place. “Are you here _with_ me?”

#


	7. A Game For Fools

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you ran away from me.” Alex sat on the plush velvet settee, drink in hand, sneaking sly glances at Miles.

Miles tried hard not to blush under the intensity of Alex’s attention.

_ That guy! _

_ God _ , thought Miles.

If Alex had the slightest idea of his power, he’d be ruling the world by now! One look could melt all the ice caps at once. One word could set entire forests on fire. A single touch carried enough fuel to send an armada of rockets across the universe!

Miles swallowed hard. “Don’t be ridiculous! I had family business to take care off!” Some aunt, four times removed, had celebrated her birthday in Liverpool. He’d gone there. She’d hardly remembered him and he’d mispronounced her name. But, he’d been one of only a handful of guests who had made it. Not that she had invited anyone.

_ Fine! _

_ Whatever! _

He had fled the city. But after Alex had rendered him speechless and on the verge of stripping down and tying himself to his bed, Miles had considered a bit of distance a very reasonable idea.

His eyes still fluttered at the mere thought of Alex’s fingertips dancing across his stomach. He gulped again. And saw that Alex was giving him the fucking naughtiest smirk in existence.

Looking away, swallowing his drink, he forced himself to smile. “My aunt was quite happy that I showed up.”

“I can imagine. I’m always happy when you show up.”

_ Happy. _

How could one innocent little word sound so loaded, huh? How did he do it? Did he test-run his remarks? Was there an app for it?

“You were gone for an entire week.” Alex’s saucy smile turned angelic when he scooted closer to him. “Awfully loud and crowded tonight. I can barely hear you!”

Miles felt the flames licking up his arm where Alex pressed against him. “Well…Liverpool is a big city. Ran into a few people. What did you do while I was gone?”

“Wrote a little.”

“You did?” And just like that, he slipped from love interest to friend. “That’s fantastic! Think it has the potential to be a song?”

“I do, actually. It’s a little early to tell. But I’m optimistic!”

Alex had a point. It was loud and crowded and even though they were in the VIP lounge of one of London’s fancier clubs, Miles had to lean closer to make out his words. However, now that he did, Alex did speak peculiarly low tonight.

He was tempted to believe that Alex had a virtuous motive for that and to trust that he wasn’t doing it for suggestive reasons. But…it was Alex. And he was sporting that provocative grin again.

“‘Nother drink?”

Miles nodded.

“I’ll go get ‘em. Have to go somewhere anyway.”

A few minutes had passed when Miles spotted the slender redhead with tight leather pants taking a seat next to him. “Oh, that’s…my friend will be right back.”

“I’ll just rest here until he gets back, then.” She smiled all lovely and feminine. She was a beauty in every sense of the word. Stunning curves, long legs, plump lips, and eyes to kill for. Only, none of that did anything for him. “I’m Laura.”

“Miles.” He shook her hand.

“Crazy, tonight. Right? So many people!”

“Yes.”

“Came here with my friends. Lost them somewhere. Now I’m all alone. Would you like to entertain me for a while?”

He was single. She was nice, judging by first impressions, and no doubt captivating. But not to him. He felt no intrigue. No allure.

“Are you the musician? Miles Kane, is it not?”

“I am that,” he said and smiled politely, covertly sneaking a glance around her, trying to spot Alex. “Are you a fan of rock?”

“I am a fan of yours.”

She was making it obvious that she’d like to flirt with him. Maybe, once upon a time, he’d have flirted back. But while he didn’t mind having a bit of a friendly chat, anything more than that was nowhere on his mind.

“This friend of yours,” she wondered, “is he nearby? Or did he maybe realize you’re in good company at the moment?”

“He’ll be back any moment. So, you’re a fan, huh? Ever been to a show?”

“Never. Are you inviting me to one?”

“I’m afraid I’m all out of tickets to pass along.” He got up. “It was nice meeting you. Maybe I’ll spot you in a crowd one day. Have a lovely night.”

Miles made his way to the bar first, but Alex wasn’t there. Heading next to the bathroom, he found him hidden from people’s view in a shadowy corner and he’d only noticed him because he had a cigarette between his lips and the glowing tip had caught his eyes.

“Here you are.” He came to a halt in front of him. Naturally, he went for the Marlboro and it made Alex smile, if only for a brief second. “Got lost on your way back?”

“Saw you had company and didn’t want to intrude.”

There was an edge to Alex’s remark, and it rubbed Miles the wrong way. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” said Alex, not quite as generous with the cigarette tonight. He took it back and held on to it. “She looked pretty.”

“Yes,” agreed Miles. “She’s that.”

“Shouldn’t you be talking to her, then?”

Miles, for the first time in weeks, as it occurred to him, lit a cigarette just for himself while in the company of Alex. He leaned back against the wall, flanked by Alex on one side and a gaudy fake plant on the other.

He just stood there, smoking, in silence. What was he supposed to say, anyway?

Alex tossed the dead butt away. Stepping away from the wall, he looked at the floor, hands in his pockets.

“What’s happening right now?” asked Miles, genuinely confused. “Have I done something wrong? You need to tell me, ‘cause I don’t think that I have.”

Still not meeting his eyes, Alex faced the dark hallway. He cleared his throat. “You haven’t.”

“But something is bothering you.”

Alex’s head rolled back as he looked towards the ceiling. Sighing.

Miles grew impatient. “Come on, Alex!” He killed his cigarette, stumped on it with his foot, then reached for Alex’s arm, spinning him around. “Say it!”

“Are you here with me?”

“Yes, I am,” said Miles. Annoyed. Still confused. “And I was enjoying spending time with you until—”

“No, Miles.” Alex looked at him now. “Are you here with me?”

“I said yes.”

Alex took a step towards Miles, who, in return, took a step back. His back hit the wall. Alex came closer. And Miles had no escape left. “You’re not listening.” He placed both hands on Miles’ stomach, right above the line of his belt. Flat. Unmoving. Holding him in place. “Are you here  _ with _ me?”

_ With _ .

Miles took in a sharp breath. His eyes were on Alex’s. They were so full of emotion. He couldn’t stop staring.

“Are you?”

Covering Alex’s hands with his own, trying to get them to move away, to stop this searing heat from stealing all the oxygen, Miles failed in his attempt. Alex let go of his stomach and linked his hands with Miles’, slowly moving them to the side, up, against the wall. Trapping him even further.

Bringing them that much closer together. Front pressed to front.

Miles could taste the tobacco on Alex’s breath, could smell the Whiskey he’d had. He could count every single eyelash. And he found himself endlessly fascinated by the tiny little pale red line just below his eyebrow. “How did you get that scar?” He heard himself whispering.

“By my eye?” A vague smile slipped onto Alex’s face. “Was changing the strings on a guitar. One bounced back and hit me. Bled quite a bit. Almost gave my mother a heart attack.”

A faint, husky chuckle rolled from Miles’ throat as he imagined that scene. His gaze fell to Alex’s lips. His eyes began to flutter. Had he ever been this tempted to kiss somebody? And if not, if no other set of lips had been this enrapturing, had he ever experienced anything that even deserved to be called a kiss at all?

The tip of Alex’s nose touched his. His legs damn near gave out and he grabbed on tight to Alex’s hands, to hold on. To not drop to the ground. Or to not float off of it.

“Alex…” No hoarser word had ever slipped from his lips.

He felt him everywhere. Alex’s entire body was flush against his own, electrifying him in ways he’d never thought possible. Alex’s hard chest aligned perfectly with his own. Alex’s thighs were firm and unyielding. His stomach flat. And his… Miles gulped hard when he became aware of Alex’s cock. He’d never felt another man’s erection pressed against his own. His heart was beating rapidly, a quick, endless onslaught of cannonballs exploding inside of him.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

With each explosion, a part of his control was blown to irrecoverable pieces.

“Alex…” He hushed again.

And then it happened. The very curve of Alex’s upper lip brushed against his own. It lasted scarcely a second. But it was enough to be remembered for a lifetime.

Miles didn’t dare to move. He didn’t even dare to moan and he longed to moan so desperately. But if he moved, their lips might meet again. For more than a second. Maybe they’d meet for two seconds. And he wasn’t sure he could survive touching Alex’s lips for two seconds without surrendering wholly.

His eyes, squeezed shut, flew open at the sound of shattering glass. Alex let go. Miles remained against the wall, paralyzed.

Nearby, a waitress had dropped a tray of glasses and was busy collecting the shards. Blinking into the suddenly brightly lit hallway, he found Alex on the other side of the fake plant, holding onto the wall with one hand. He looked completely out of it and it calmed Miles greatly to know that they were both affected, overwhelmed even.

Miles took deliberate and steady breaths, tried to gain control over his body and his thoughts.

After a few minutes, the waitress and her shards had gone, the light was dimmed again, and he was still standing near the plant as time ticked diligently on.

Only, as he tested the steadfastness of his legs by carefully letting go of the wall, he suddenly realized that life was different now. Different from what it had been when he’d entered this hallway.

He’d glimpsed at something. And now he couldn’t unsee it.

Alex had detached himself from the wall as well and stood in the center of the hallway. He tried to regain his swagger, his smirk, but the hazy look in his eyes was tough to see past. “I think I need a drink.”

Miles agreed wholeheartedly. “Hell yes!” He made a step and a half before pausing, once more. Not looking at Alex this time, he kept his eyes straight ahead instead. “I’m here  _ with _ you.” Then he walked on.

-

Two hours and a half a bottle of Whiskey later, Miles had his chin tucked neatly into the curve of Alex’s shoulder, whispering tales of his past, and listening to Alex as he did the same. His arm was curled around Alex’s back. At first, he’d done it to keep him there. To assure him that he wasn’t freaked out because of their moment. He’d done it to reassure himself of that. But he’d been fooling himself.

He wasn’t freaked out. No. Oh, if only he were that!

It was so much worse. He wanted that kiss. He wanted to grab Alex and have his way with him in the most ungodly manners imaginable. He wanted dark corners, dimly lit alleys, and shadowy hallways. He craved that affair. He longed for that wicked game they could be playing right now. Fuck it, he even yearned for heartbreak!

There was no doubt in Miles’ mind that Alex would break his heart real good!

And if life were the tiniest bit less complicated, he’d go for all of that in a heartbeat. But he’d have to go on tour with him. And they had just begun to be friends. And Miles was friends with Alex’s friends. Their lives were, for better or worse, entwined.

Alex pressed his nose against Miles’ jawbone as he reiterated some joke he’d heard. Miles hardly comprehended a word. His hand slipped from Alex’s waist to his lower back. Heat pooled there. And he soaked it up with his palm, relishing in it. His index finger traveled lazily above the line of his trousers and he smiled to himself when he felt Alex reacting to his touch.

“Turner? Kane? Is it you?” A roaring voice droned from behind them.

Reluctantly letting go of Alex, Miles leaned back to see if he could place a name to that voice. It was one of the festival organizers he, as well as Alex, had come to work with and gotten to know over the years. “Emmet. Been a while,” acknowledged Miles.

“Not long enough,” muttered Alex, scooting inseparably close towards Miles.

The disapproval was impossible to overhear and Miles glanced curiously at Alex, whose high spirits had taken a sudden and unannounced leave of absence.

“Are you…” Emmet’s eyes wandered from Miles to Alex and back. “…like, hanging out… _ together _ ? Without arguing?”

Rolling his eyes, Alex grabbed his glass of Whiskey and drowned it.

Miles shrugged. “We don’t always fight.”

“Yes, you do. But, hey, whatever. What else is new with you?” Nearly in his fifties, he had grey hair, a slight belly and the skin of somebody who spent a little too much time underneath the sun. Not waiting for an invitation, he sat down next to Alex. “Got a tour coming up, right?”

When Alex remained mute, Miles spoke up. “The last leg of it. Yes. Alex and the others will begin again next week.”

“With Miles,” added Alex pointedly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “He’ll tour with us.”

“You’re the support act, then?”

Alex replied before Miles could. “I’d rather say he plays the first half of the show and we play the second. The fans love him.”

There had to be a reason for Alex’s odd choice of words and his strangely hostile behavior and Miles couldn’t wait to press him for it. But, for now, he felt stuck. Instead of getting in between, he decided to observe instead.

“Shame, though,” said Emmet. His voice carried no attitude. “I’d have loved to book you for my festival. Near London? You’d have rocked it.”

Alex’s hand slipped from Miles’ shoulder, down the traceable path of his spine, following it, until he found a resting place almost, but not quite, on his butt.

Miles snuck a little grin at him, to let him know he was very,  _ very _ aware of his touch.

“You, too, of course.” This, from Emmet.

Miles blinked, met his look. “Huh?”

“The festival? My festival? You’d have been invited as well.”

“Yeah, sure. Maybe some other time.” He knew he was being rude. But he wasn’t the least bit interested in talking to someone he barely knew about something that wasn’t even up for discussion. Especially not when Alex was giving him a bloody wild pair of bedroom eyes.

Miles bit back a growl.

“You’re still pissed?” Emmet. Again. “It was your idea!”

Alex stiffened against Miles’ arm. His simmering eyes iced over in an instant.

“Turner, I’m talking to you!”

“Do you want to leave?” whispered Miles, ignoring Emmet, who impatiently waited for a response.

Meeting his eyes, Alex shook his head. “Later,” he said, quietly, “I’d like to explain if you let me.”

“Explain what?”

Emmet interrupted. “Explain why he’s the reason you got kicked off the mainstage in Norway two years ago. Miles and his manager knew that it was a business choice. You, Turner, were the primadonna who acted stupidly.”

“I was the one who got you fired. Anyone ever tell you that?” Alex stood up.

Miles, still trying to form a picture with what few puzzle pieces he’d just gathered, was surprised when Alex held out his hand for him. He took it wordlessly, got up and followed him out.

They held hands all the way across the club, then outside, and Alex only relinquished his hold on him after they’d flagged down a cab.

They didn’t say a word to one another, not while they waited for a cab to appear, not when getting inside, not when Alex gave the cab driver his address and not when they got there and Alex waited for Miles to get out as well.

“This is getting weird!” Miles finally spoke up as he got into the elevator with Alex.

“I know.” Alex’s voice sounded hoarse. Thick. “I didn’t want anyone to hear.”

“Hear what?” wondered Miles. “So far, all I know is that I played the baby stage in Norway and somehow, you had something to do with that.”

“Last month, you’d have ripped my head off for half that.”

“Last month, we weren’t friends. I’d like to give you the benefit of the doubt. I’d like you to tell me the whole story.”

The elevator chimed and Alex stepped out, towards his door. He glanced back, over his shoulder, to Miles. “That sounded so grown up.”

At that, Miles chuckled. “Better not get used to it, then.” Following Alex inside, he shrugged off his blazer and aimed for the living room.

A moment later, Alex joined him there, handing him a glass of Whiskey. He sat down on the edge of the table, in front of Miles. And sighed. “Jamie, Matt, Nick, and I…we were hanging out with a few people and we were a little drunk. Maybe more than a little. Our album had been out for a while and done really well and I said something…”

“Something arrogant?” Miles leaned forward. Grinned slightly. He could see just how tense Alex was and even though he had a hunch that this story wouldn’t paint him endearingly, Miles still felt overcome by an urge to make him feel better. To calm him.

Alex looked up at him. “You’re being kind to me. I ought to enjoy it while it lasts.” Bringing his own drink up to his lips, he swallowed it whole. Then he took a deep breath. “I said the organizers would make a ton of extra money if they doubled our set and let us play the whole album. I knew you were scheduled to play before us. I was aware of it when I suggested it. But you and I had just gotten…we bloody always fought! I was pissed at you. I don’t even remember why! Emmet heard it. Apparently, he agreed. He moved you to the baby stage and came to find me the next day. Told me about it. He told me how I’d set it all in motion. By then, I felt awful. You deserved that spot, Miles! I told him we wouldn’t play the whole record. Told him that we’d stick to the original setlist. The whole band wanted you on the main stage! But he’d already spoken to our management, and you know those fuckers! Emmet said I shouldn’t worry about the small artists. I went to his boss and said we’d never return unless they got rid of him.”

Miles finished his drink, leaned back and relaxed against the back of Alex’s plush leather couch. And began to laugh. Loud, roaring, vastly amused laughter.

Alex sat up and stared. “Seriously?”

“Let me get this straight. You got a guy fired for doing his job? After you planted that very idea into his head? All of that, you did because he made a passing remark about me? And you think…what exactly? That I’d be mad at you?”

“You’re not?”

“If I were Emmet, I’d be really pissed right now. Better not run into him for a while.” Laughter still vibrated from him. “I’m honestly shocked you threatened never to return because of me.”

Alex looked away. “Now you’re making me feel embarrassed.”

“That honestly wasn’t my intention.”

“Stop laughing, then!”

“I can’t! You have any idea how flattered I feel right now?” His laughter got louder and Miles hunched forward, holding his stomach. “Oh God!”

“Oh what?” sneered Alex, arms crossed, glaring.

Miles needed a moment to collect himself. He took a few steadying breaths. “You really don’t remember what we fought about that day?”

“No,” bit Alex. “But I’m glad that it amuses you!”

Chuckling, Miles placed his arms on his legs and propped his head on his hands. His eyes tried to catch Alex’s gaze. But he played hard to get. “You took offense when I said I’d rather play the baby stage than be your opening act.”

Alex’s gaze locked with Miles’. And he laughed.

“You took a stand for me,” spoke Miles. “Even though you didn’t like me.”

His laughter ceased and a sheepish smile replaced it as Alex leaned closer towards Miles. “I wouldn’t say that I didn’t like you,” he said.

Miles bit his lip coyly. “You liked me, then?”

Alex grinned. “I wouldn’t say that, either. Guess it was somewhere in between.”

“And now?”

“Now?” Alex’s head dipped towards Miles. Their foreheads touched.

Miles’ eyes began to flutter as he fought the urge to close that distance that barely deserved to be called that at all.

“Now,” whispered Alex, “I feel something else entirely.” He placed his right hand on Miles’ thigh.

Eyes suddenly wide and completely focused on Alex’s hand as it moved infinitesimally slow up his leg, Miles could feel himself getting hard. He’d never known want this strong.

And Alex made it worse with each passing second. His fingers spread out, his tips were close, so very close.

Their foreheads were rubbing against one another, lips nearing, noses touching.

“Stop!” Miles jumped up, turned around. “Shit!” He wiped his face with both hands. “Alex…Fuck, you know us. If we kiss, we won’t stop!”

Looking up from his spot on the edge of the table, Alex veritably smoldered at him. “So?” He got up. “Are you nervous? About being with a man? Is that what’s holding you back?”

“Nervous?” Miles snorted.

Oh, nervous he was not. Excited. Desperate. Willing. Eager. He could name a million emotions. Nervous wasn’t one of them.

“I’m not,” professed Alex, walking up to Miles, then standing right in front of him. “I should be, right? Isn’t that what’s expected of somebody about to take that step?” He placed his palms on Miles’ stomach. “Doesn’t society demand that I worry about my masculinity? Doesn’t it demand that I pick a label for myself? You know, give or take? Dom or sub? Top or bottom?” Alex shook his head. “I’m not nervous, Miles. I’m hard. I’m feeling  _ very _ male right now. And I don’t give a fuck if I give or take, as long as there’s an orgasm at the end of it.”

“You think I give a fuck?” Miles’ hands shot out, placed them on Alex’s waist, and spun them around, to press him up against a wall. He aligned his entire body with that of him and Alex rewarded him with a throaty moan.

All of his body was humming with desire. His painfully erect cock lined up perfectly against Alex’s equally aroused one and he rolled his hips just once, to see what if would feel like.

_ Insane. _

His face fell into the curve of Alex’s neck, his lips brushed against his earlobe. “I want your ass and I want you to take mine. I want to feel you everywhere, all at once. I want to watch you as you teeter on edge and I want to be the one to push you over.” He sank his lips to Alex’s skin and placed a succulent kiss there, feeling his shudder in his arms. “But we can’t.”

He let go. Took a step back.

Alex’s eyes were pitch black. His lips carried a lascivious smirk and his hand still held on to his shirt, fisting it, trying to tug him back. “Why?”

“Because…” began Miles, having to work harder than usual to come up with reasons. “The tour and…life…our friendship…”

“I’m a professional. You’re a professional.” Alex made a move towards Miles. “We’ll be very grown-up about it. We’ll be—”

Alex’s attempt at seduction was cut short by his doorbell.

Miles wasn’t sure whether to hug or strangle whoever was on the other side, but, for now, he’d use the opportunity to catch his breath and gather his thoughts.

“Who the fuck shows up this late?” grumbled Alex, reluctantly letting go of Miles and heading for the door. Miles followed him, blazer in hand. He needed to leave this place or he’d end up staying longer than was good for him.

Alex noticed his intention. The doorbell rang again. As he rolled his eyes, he met Miles’. “Go, then. If you must. But know this: You’ve allowed me to taste a glimpse of what could be and I want more. So much more. Expect me to bring my A-game tomorrow!”

“Tomorrow?”

“Forgot already? You invited me to join you for your pre-tour shopping spree.” Alex smirked as he stopped in front of the door, reaching out and trailing his index finger down the line of buttons on Miles’ shirt, making his dick perk up again. “Can’t wait to help you undo buttons and zippers.”

Miles gulped hard. Images filled his head. And sweat pooled at the small of his back. “We’ll be in public, Alex.” His voice was strikingly raspy.

Alex winked as he unlocked. “I know.” He was about to pull it open when the voice of Matt Helders roared through the door. “Finally, Turner! I’ve been waiting for minutes!”

Miles cursed and quickly headed for Alex’s bedroom. Alex, meanwhile, watched amused. “Shall I tell him to leave, then? You plan on staying after all?”

“Just let him in and I’ll slip out afterward.”

“Night, Miles.”

Miles closed the bedroom door as Alex opened the front one.

.

.

**Spoiler Chapter** 8:

#

Miles’ voice came out in a throaty whisper. “You’re out to kill me, aren’t you?”

“What good would you do me dead?” Alex drew a path from Miles’ navel, down the happy trail of fine dark hairs to the button of his jeans. “I’m trying to get you hard. You’re much easier to corrupt, then.”

#

His fingers played with the buckle. “You have to take it. This jacket alone,” hushed Alex, “will get fans to go wild.” His teeth sank into Miles’ earlobe and he bit down gently. “They won’t be able to resist you.” He pulled the leather belt out of its confinements. Undid the latch. Twirled his fingertip over the button of his pants. Unsnapped it. “I can’t resist you.”

#


	8. Kiss Me Or Kill Me

**Thank you all so much for liking this story and for leaving kind words and kudos. I greatly appreciate it! ❤️Enjoy the new chapter!**

Chapter 8

“What did Matt want?” Miles stood in front of a large display of colorful short-sleeved shirts as he glanced at Alex, who eyed the assortment warily.

“I forgot that I offered him my guest room ‘til tour starts. We’ll have a rehearsal tomorrow morning, then the show later that night. And another one after that. He’ll stay ‘til we leave for Rome in two days. Which means you and I will have to conduct our clandestine meetings at your place from now on.” And Alex had every intention for there to be clandestine meetings. Last night he’d been _this_ close to getting his lips on him and what little contact he’d managed to get had left him haunted and deeply unsatisfied.

His fingers brushed the fabric of a blood-red shirt. It had a velvety finish and he liked the way it felt when he touched it. “Try this one.”

Miles snorted. “It’ll make me look like one of those emo vampires! You try it. You got the hairline for it, Dracula!”

He slapped his arm as he laughed. “Are you trying to start a fight with me? Is that what sexual frustration does to you?”

“You think me frustrated?” Miles leaned into Alex, whispering, “I’ve taken good care of myself last night.”

The shirt slipped from Alex’s hand. And a scoff slipped from his throat. “Dirty.” Unable to help himself, he turned his head. Quick. Too quick for Miles to react. He placed the fastest kiss on his lips. “I like that.”

Miles stood frozen in place.

Alex leaned back, happy, and grinned, satisfied that he’d rendered him speechless for the moment. “Did I shock you? Told you I’d bring my A-game!” A wink.

“A warning would have been nice,” mumbled Miles, slowly snapping out of his daze.

“Consider yourself warned, then. I’ll have you begging before the sun comes down.”

“Begging for you to stop,” muttered Miles.

“Begging for me to go harder,” replied Alex.

“At this rate, you’ll have me there by lunch.”

“Aw, how sweet of you.” Alex smiled slyly at Miles. “‘Nother kiss?”

Blushing, Miles looked away and busied himself with shirts. “We should…you know…shop.”

Sidling closer at every opportunity, Alex thoroughly enjoyed the way Miles snuck little glances at him. He loved the shyness that befell him whenever he felt out of depth, and sometimes he slipped from cocky to cute in a span of time so short that Alex barely had a chance to catch it.

“Are you looking for something in particular? Like, a very specific kind of bright and patterned?”

Miles chuckled. “Do I sense a note of disdain for my colorful style?”

“Not at all!” Alex admired Miles’ fearless fashion style. But, given the choice, he preferred him dressed sharp in a well-tailored black suit. With a tie. Or a leather jacket. He wore those exceptionally well! “I try to be of help. So… _use_ me.”

“Are you doing this on purpose or are you genuinely unable to help yourself?” Miles eyed him sideways while inspecting a yellow floral print shirt. Humor laced his words.

“A bit of both.” Today, the innuendos came faster than usual. He’d admit that. But Miles did make it easy for him. “I’ll stop if you tell me to.” Alex’s eyes lingered on him, giving him the chance to put an end to it, waiting for him to object to it all, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

But Miles merely smiled to himself. Brushing up against Alex, instigating yet another touch, he held up the yellow shirt. “Daring. Wouldn’t you say?”

Miles didn’t want him to stop, then. Alex tried to keep the growing size of his smile under control. “I’d say you can carry it off. Also,” he added, pointing towards a meticulously cut black biker jacket that had captured his attention. “Put that on.”

“With or without the shirt underneath?”

He’s flirting back, noted Alex, and rejoiced. “How about with nothing underneath?”

Eyes met for a hot second. Miles grabbed the jacket from the hanger. Winked. Headed to the changing room. Tossing over his shoulder, “you coming?”

“I’ll get there,” replied Alex, watching his retreating figure with appreciation before taking another look at the store’s offerings. He saw a pristine shirt, deep black, exquisitely cut. Assuming they had a similar size, he chose his own and carried it with him towards the changing room. “Got something else for you. Where are you?”

The curtain to his right made a movement. “I’m here.”

Alex pondered briefly how daring he ought to be, but the salesgirl was in the front, helping an elderly couple, and other than them, no other customer was around. Feeling just naughty enough, he parted the curtain and entered.

“Alex!” Miles’ jaw dropped when he saw him in front of him. He lowered his voice. “What if anyone sees?”

He shrugged, uninterested. His thoughts were too preoccupied with other things. His tongue glided languidly over his lip as his eyes roamed hungrily over Miles’ naked upper body. He’d seen him before, had taken note before, but from up close, he looked infinitely more attractive. Firm and hard, no doubt, thought Alex. Endless lines to trace. Unlimited secrets to uncover. He gulped as he reached out, placed his shaky fingertips to Miles’ fine abs, and just felt. Took in. Heat passed from Miles’ skin into his own.

Miles’ voice came out in a throaty whisper. “You’re out to kill me, aren’t you?”

“What good would you do me dead?” Alex drew a path from Miles’ navel, down the happy trail of fine dark hairs to the button of his jeans. “I’m trying to get you hard. You’re much easier to corrupt, then.”

Blinking, tugging the black shirt from Alex’s other hand, Miles spun away from him. “I’m not there yet!”

_Yet._

With a glint in his eyes, he watched Miles as he tossed the shirt onto the little chair in the corner. He grabbed the leather jacket, took it off the wall and shrugged it on.

“That’s a stage look, wouldn’t you say?” Coming closer, he resumed his hold on Miles’ body. Starting out on his back, he let his hands slowly slide around his sides until they found their aim, below his jacket, on his skin, just above his belt buckle. He was unbelievably tempted to undo it but getting Miles to crack would be a slow act, and not a race. He’d have to take carefully placed steps. Otherwise, Miles would bolt again. And that, he absolutely didn’t want.

However, as he eased his body up against Miles’, the subject of his kinkiest fantasies let his head drop back onto his shoulder, offering the most undoing sigh Alex had ever heard. Maybe the cracking was much closer than he’d assumed. Maybe he should test the water’s temperature, so to speak?

His fingers played with the buckle. “You have to take it. This jacket alone,” hushed Alex, “will get fans to go wild.” His teeth sank into Miles’ earlobe and he bit down gently. He felt his own knees go weak. “They won’t be able to resist you.” He pulled the leather belt out of its confinements. Undid the latch. Twirled his fingertip over the button of his pants. Unsnapped it. “I can’t resist you.”

Growling into the silent little cubicle, Miles arched against Alex. It spurred him on. Made him drag his lips over the curve of his jawbone. The tiny, ticklish hairs of Miles’ unshaved stubble tantalized his lips to no end. He’d never imagined that something so decidedly male could be so deliciously arousing. Alex undid the zipper.

“You need any help in there?” The salesgirl was behind the curtain.

Alex’s hand froze. Miles all but jumped forward. Away from him. “N—”

Suddenly, Miles’ hand was on his mouth, pressing it shut. “No, all’s good. Be out in a minute.”

“Take your time,” she said. “I’ll be in the front if you need anything.”

Miles took his hand away. “Are you insane? What if she found you in here?”

Alex raised his brow, challenged. He wasn’t all that eager to parade his private life around, but he also wasn’t hiding it or embarrassed by it. Taking a deliberate, stern step towards Miles, flattening him against the mirror and trapping him there, by placing both hands to either side of his head, he leaned in, whispering, “Then what? You and I aren’t the first people to fool around in a changing room. We won’t be the last. And _it_ won’t be _our_ last.”

“You can’t bring yourself to admit to your band that you and I are friends! What’s with your desire to get _us_ caught?”

“They find out we’re friends, it’ll be the end of our private little moments. That’s why I don’t tell ‘em. They’ll find out soon enough. And I don’t _want_ us to get caught. I just don’t care if it happens.” He got closer. “Do you?”

Miles hesitated.

Alex was floored. “You do.” He stepped away from him.

“No…no. It’s not like that!” Now, it was Miles’ turn to seek proximity. “This?” He wiggled a finger between the two of them. “This is _just_ us. You and me.” He sounded shy, all of sudden. His fingertips fidgeted with the hem of Alex’s shirt, something Alex found vexingly distracting. Miles went on. “I like that it’s unruly and that it moves rapidly, and I never know what will happen next! It’s this never-ending adventure that belongs to us and to us alone. If anyone finds out, it’ll turn into a spectacle!”

Miles’ hands moved on to play with the buttons on his shirt and that did crazy things to Alex’s body. He was used to being the instigator, the wicked one. He wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of it. Sure, Miles had touched him, leaned into him at times, had kissed his neck last night, but the last part had been the exception to the rule and everything else was hardly sexual. It became undeniable to him that he rather liked it a lot when Miles put the moves on him. “In the club, yesterday, on the settee, _you_ pulled _me_ close.”

“There’s a difference between sitting close in a crowded club and some girl finding you and me while I’m shirtless and my pants are undone, wouldn’t you say?”

Alex relented. “Fair enough. No more changing rooms, then?”

Miles got nearer to him as shook his head. Alex’s breath hitched in his throat. “More changing rooms. As long as we try not to get caught. And while we’re at it setting some things straight,” he continued, low and with a look that was no longer shy, but so intense that Alex got lost in it. “I may be trying to resist you, but…” He placed the calloused tip of his index finger underneath Alex’s chin and tilted it up, baring his throat to him. “I can make you beg as well.” And then, right there, to the hollow between his collar bones, Miles placed his lips and kissed him.

One hand he had on the small of Alex’s back, the other one Miles moved away from his chin and placed it against the mirror for support.

Alex felt himself dipped backward, falling into a marvelous hole of lust and longing. Miles kissed him harder there, leaving a mark, before licking obscenely up across his Adam’s apple. Shivering, clinging to him for dear life, Alex squeezed his eyes shut. He was throbbing with need. Miles’ lips reached his chin. He dragged his teeth there. “Want more?”

Alex nodded jerkily. “Please!”

“Good,” rasped Miles. He ghosted his lips over Alex’s. Leaned back. Let go.

Alex all but collapsed against the mirror.

“Let’s see what the next store has to offer.”

-

Miles had gotten the leather jacket. And the black shirt, even though he hadn’t tried it on. Alex bit his fingertip, his mind still adrift in their little moment from earlier, and he daydreamed about all sorts of scenarios that included him stripping the very items right off Miles’ body.

_Damn it to hell!_

Alex had always considered Miles to be a formidable opponent. Music-wise, in the ring, and verbally, when sparring with him. But that guy knew a thing or two about sex. Of that, Alex had no longer the least bit of doubt. And, boy, was he eager to find out just how much!

“You really don’t have to carry my bags!” Miles was walking next to him, scrolling through his phone, checking up on mails or something.

“I told you, I really don’t mind! Gives me something to do while you ignore me.”

Miles put the phone down. Smiled. “There. All attentive now. Would you like to tell me something? Or would you prefer I tell you something?”

He chuckled. “What’s with this phone-thing, anyway? How can you walk and read at the same time?”

“I can multitask.”

“Oh, that,” pointed Alex out, “I already know. You can drive me wild and leave me hanging at the same time.”

Now Miles laughed. “And that was just a preview.” He winked.

Alex groaned.

“Oh, _Hugo Boss_!” Miles grabbed Alex’s hand. “Let’s see if they got that sweater I saw online!”

A sweater, they had not. But within a matter of minutes, Miles stood in front of a large mirror while an elderly gentleman moved his hands up and down his legs, adjusting a skillfully cut pair of black trousers. The blazer was to be measured next and as Alex tried to keep from staring with an embarrassing passion whilst that tailor did his work, his eyes caught sight of a nice selection of shirts.

 _Might as well do some shopping as well_ , he thought.

One of the employees rapidly joined his side, offering his assistance. “I’ll try this one,” said Alex, holding up a plain white shirt. “And this in black.”

“Excellent choice. Changing room is that way,” he said, pointing to the back of the store. “And if you like, I’d be happy to assist you in any way you wish.”

“I think I can handle putting on a shirt,” quipped Alex, having the distinct notion he’d just been flirted at by that guy. “But do me a favor and let my friend know to come find me when he’s done.”

“Of course.”

Miles found him as Alex finished with the buttons of the black shirt. He stepped out and posed, unconvinced. “Too tight?” He eyed his reflection in the mirror. “I think it’s too tight.”

“I think,” remarked the sales guy, who hovered nearby, “that the shirt fits you decidedly well. If I may offer my opinion.”

“It is tight,” said Miles, trying and failing to hide his amusement, “but you look mighty fine in it.” _Very sexy_ , he mouthed surreptitiously.

Alex was tempted to wink at Miles, but that employee was beginning to annoy him with his lingering presence. “It’s a yes, then?”

“A solid yes,” assured Miles. He took a step to his left, blocking the view from the sales guy. His voice lowered into a raspy murmur. “I have this image of you in my head, wearing this shirt, buttons undone, and those low rising briefs they got in the front.”

Alex fought a smirk. He felt Miles’ little finger brush against his own. At first, he thought it was accidental. Then it happened again. The spot began to tickle and tingle. He curled his own around Miles’, snuck a covert smile at him. “The bright red ones?”

Miles nodded.

_Red underwear? Why not._

“I like that you fantasize about me,” hushed Alex, reluctantly letting go of Miles’ hand when he became aware that other customers were in the vicinity. He was beginning to like this idea of secrecy. There was something alluringly wicked about hiding in plain sight, finding ways to avoid getting caught.

Five minutes later, Miles had bought a suit, ready to be delivered as soon as it was done being tailored. And Alex was the proud owner of two plain shirts and a pair of fire-engine red _Hugo Boss_ low-cut briefs. “You know,” drawled Alex, holding a tight grip on Miles’ attention as he fell prey to his own persistent desire to make him blush, “if you want that fantasy of yours to become a reality, all you have to do is ask.”

“You’d strip for me?” asked Miles, in awe and intrigued at the same time.

Alex leaned closer. “I’ll throw in a lap dance as well.” He saw the red cheeks and the hint of perspiration on his forehead. Emboldened by his newly developed talent for getting Miles’ heat levels to rise, he took a step closer to the edge, to test the temperature once again. “Let’s say tonight? Your place?”

There was still hesitation on Miles’ face. Want. Desire. A wish to give in. But doubt. And reluctance. “Maybe some other time,” said Miles quietly.

“Or we go for drinks instead,” Alex suggested quickly, unwilling to give up so easily.

They walked a few steps in silence until Miles spoke up. “There’s this magnetism between us. I can’t deny it.” His eyes met Alex’s, but just barely. “This wish of yours, to take it somewhere…is it just curiosity?”

Alex, who was walking next to Miles, got rid of the remaining distance that divided them and brushed the entire length of his arm against that of him. “How do you mean?”

“I’ve never kissed a guy before,” admitted Miles. “But I won’t deny that the idea by itself holds a certain appeal to me. And I’m wondering, do you feel that way about me? Am I an idea? A fascination? Is this just a curiosity that you’d like to explore?”

Alex brought them to a halt and spotted a quiet alley between two large houses. He moved them there. This felt like a moment that required privacy. He turned towards Miles, and as he held on to his eyes, he noted a vulnerability that tugged on his heart in the strangest manner. “If this was about kissing a man just for the experience of it, I’d pick a guy and kiss him. I could have kissed the guy at _Hugo Boss_. But it’s not his set of lips that I want. Nobody’s lips are more appealing than yours. Nobody’s touch is more tempting than yours. Nobody’s tongue holds a greater allure than yours and nobody’s breath smells sweater. The thought of kissing you captivates me not because you’re a man. It captivates me because you’re unflappable. Unshakable. You’re always cool and collected and on top of your game. And I want to be the one to crack your armor and strip you bare. I want to unravel you. I want to discover every single secret your body holds.” As he said it, the distance between them began to dissolve.

“And once you know everything?”

“Then?” Alex lifted his hand and placed it on Miles’ chest, curling into his shirt and hauling him towards himself. “Then I plan on using those secrets to my advantage. Can you imagine the kind of pleasure I could wring from you if only I knew what you’d like my hands to do?”

Miles swallowed hard.

And Alex smiled. “Exactly.” He walked backward until his back hit the wall. Then he braced himself with Miles, who willingly sank against him. “You’re not a passing curiosity. You’re my wildest desire.” His lips brushed against Miles’ jawbone. “Tell me, what am I to you?”

“You’re a galaxy,” whispered Miles, staring longingly into Alex’s eyes. “Endlessly unexplored and infinitely fascinating. Sometimes, you’re too complex, too complicated for me, like a foreign language that I’ll never understand. And, yet, at other times, I can read you better than any word I’ve ever written myself. I have never in my life had any desire to excel at anything. But you make me want to study you. You make me want to know you better than anybody else. And…”

“And what?”

“And I want you to be mine,” said Miles, defeat in his voice.

“No kissing other men, then?”

Miles shook his head.

“Only you.”

He nodded.

Alex bound his arms around Miles’ middle. He’d been called complicated a million times in his life, by friends, partners, interviewers, strangers. He’d never considered it a compliment before. Until now, _complicated_ had continually sounded like an insult. As though he was a piece of work, and not necessarily worth the effort. Miles was the first person that wasn’t put off by him. On the contrary. For some reason, all of Alex’s bad traits seemed to be the very things that Miles liked most about him.

He leaned forward, slipped his tongue out and licked the hint of sweat from the valley between his collar bones, the very spot that Miles had kissed on him, earlier.

A shudder went through Miles. His voice was hoarse when he spoke up, “About that lap dance…”

Alex chuckled breathlessly against his throat. “That,” he said with a coy look, pecking his chin quickly before letting go completely, “you’ll have to earn. You questioned my motives,” he smirked. “And that put a damper on my fancy to sway my hips for you.”

Miles retreated slowly. “I have to find a way to put you in the mood again. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Precisely,” said Alex. He made his way back to the busy sidewalk and waited for Miles to join his side. “Be creative!” It thrilled him to hear that Miles appeared to have given up on fighting their attraction and was slightly more willing to enter a place a little more satisfying.

“Will a well-cooked meal sway your hips in my direction?”

“You cook?”

“I do.”

 _Dinner_.

It was one of those things that bordered on the very edge he tried to balance on. While he’d love to have Miles in every dirty way imaginable, his desires centered solely on the physical aspect of a relationship.

He wanted Miles as his friend. He wanted him in his bed. He needed him in both ways, separately. But he couldn’t, under absolutely no circumstances, mix those two things. Dating him, and, by conclusion, falling for him, was a grave danger.

Love had never chosen his side. Love was sneaky fucker that relished playing with his heart and got off on tearing it asunder.

Love was mean and reckless and flighty and unpredictable. It was big and overwhelming and messy and…

He was scared of it.

Love hurt.

It could hurt real good!

“Dinner,” he conceded, amending, “to sway me? We can do that.” Everything else, they’d have to discuss at a later point.

“Anything particular that you’d like?”

“Strawberries and chocolate?”

Laughter slipped from Miles’ throat as he flashed him a radiant smile. “Champagne as well?”

“Only the best for me,” winked Alex. He was tempted to touch him, just a little, a bit of teasing, another step along the edge, but Miles’ attention was suddenly lost to him when they passed by _Gucci_.

“Ohhh.” Miles winced painfully at the sight of the window display. His teeth dug into his lower lip. Hard. His fingers wiggled frantically.

Alex chuckled. “What’s happening right now?”

“See those black those loafers? They’d look great with my new suit?”

“And?”

“I already have them in brown.” He looked to the ground. “And blue.”

More chuckling.

“Damn it!” Miles pulled Alex with him. “You’ve got to stop me from buying them! But I can try ‘em on, right?”

“That polo neck,” noted Alex on his way through the door, passing one of those plastic mannequins, “would look great on you!”

“So would the shoes…”

Alex wandered amongst the goods as Miles lost his heart to a pair of black loafers. Every now and then he let his gaze land on him. He and the young girl trying to make a sale got on fine and gushed about the timeless appeal of plain black shoes. Alex tried to contain his amusement.

He was unlike anyone he’d ever known. Miles was cool and hard and aloof when he wanted to be. He had the skill to knock out somebody twice his size. If one handed him a guitar, he played it ‘til his fingers bled. But a pair of leather loafers could turn him into a giggling pile of cuteness.

His entire persona was a marvel to Alex. Hot and sensual in one moment, adorable and shy in the next, he never knew what to expect when he put the moves on Miles. And it drew him in. It amazed him. He was tempted to buy the bloody shoes for Miles, just to find out how he’d react. Would he be happy? Would he be elated? Would he grab him and hug him and…kiss him? Or would he take offense? Would he feel insulted for being made a generous gift or would he take it without comment? Would he immediately return the gesture? Would Alex even want him to?

“They got ‘em in red,” called Miles from across the store. “Get me out of here!”

“Stay strong, Miles. You can do it. You can try on a pair of shoes and not buy ‘em!”

“I can’t,” he said. A playful grin lit his face. “I’m weak!”

“Those look phenomenal on you!” The girl still tried to close the deal. “And as it so happens, we have a matching assortment of shirts. In just the exact color. Would you like to see them?”

“I would…”

Fifteen minutes, black loafers and two shirts later, Miles walked out of the store. Sporting a silly big smile and proudly carrying the _Gucci_ bag, he beamed at Alex. “Now what?”

“How can a pair of shoes make you so fucking happy?”

“I don’t know,” shrugged Miles. The smile grew wider. He wrapped one arm around Alex’s shoulders. “Shoes always do. What makes you happy?”

Solid question!

Pondering it, he met Miles’ eyes and frowned. “I don’t know. A finished song?”

“That’s a different kind of happy. Material things. Let’s say your birthday is tomorrow and I’d have to get you a gift. What would you want most?”

They made their way towards Alex’s car, which was parked a bit away. Keeping Miles’ arm securely around himself, Alex let his mind wander. “I honestly don’t know.”

“A new guitar?”

“Nah.”

“Leather jacket?”

He loved those. And did have a neat little collection of it. But the kind of smile that those shoes had gotten out of Miles? “Something surprising, I guess. I mean it sounds really bad, but whenever I want something, I go buy it. It would have to be something that I haven’t thought about getting yet, myself. Or, like, with the Gretsch. I didn’t expect to ever get it. When I did, it made me happy.”

“Interesting.”

Alex glanced at him. “Why? Are you considering making me a gift? My birthday won’t be for a while. And Christmas is still far away, as well.”

“Maybe you weren’t listening to yourself, but from what you just told me, it’s not easy finding the perfect gift for you. I better start looking early!”

As the words sank in, playful though they might have been, Alex pondered the idea of Miles and him still being friends by Christmas. He liked the idea of Miles staying around in his life. Smiling warmly at him, he briefly allowed himself to lean his head against his shoulder.

Just for a moment.

A second.

Otherwise, he might begin to like it too much.

And that, he could not permit!

They reached his car. Miles let go of him. Alex pulled the passenger side door open, took the bag from him and waited for him to enter. After that, he put the bags in the trunk and got in behind the wheel.

It was surprisingly quiet on London’s streets and he could have easily sped up, something he rather enjoyed doing most of the time. But with Miles, Alex rarely ever drove fast. Almost the opposite. Almost, as if he was trying to trick time from ticking on.

They arrived at Miles’ place in no time at all. Time was no fool, after all.

Getting the bags from the trunk, Alex was tempted to offer to carry them up for him. But the thought was a bit ridiculous, was it not? “Tonight, then?”

Miles nodded sunnily. “Who knows, maybe I get lucky and your hips are in a swaying mood.”

He hardly ever blushed. But he sure was blushing now. Biting his lip from letting his smile grow out of proportion, Alex nodded jerkily and hurried back into the car. “Later!”

.

.

** Spoiler Chapter 9: **

#

The truth slipped from his lips before he could stop it. “I want you to drop to your knees and swallow me whole. I want you to suck me off. I want you to make me cum so hard that I’ll drop the floor and pass out.” Fuck, had he really just said that out loud?

#

Alex’s hand froze as it held the door’s handle. He slowly turned towards Miles. His breathing was shallow. His hands sweaty. His words shaky. “You told ‘em?”

#


	9. Tell Me Why

Chapter 9

Alex wore his new black button-down shirt, the red underwear and tight black jeans. He’d chosen his favorite biker jacket, had put in an extra ten minutes to style his hair to perfection and now sat at a large table in the middle of a busy restaurant, glaring icily at Matt Helders. “Dinner? With Miles? Could have warned me, don’t you think?”

‘ Cause, if somebody had warned him, he’d have been able to find a way out of this farce! He’d have been able to avoid going out with Miles  _ and _ his band. And he’d have been able to enjoy, quite possibly, a greatly satisfying night with _ just _ Miles!

“ If we had told you that we all wanted to have dinner together, you’d have bolted. Or found some lame excuse not to come along!” Matt grabbed a breadstick and munched on it. “Miles will go on tour with us. All of us are friends with him. All, except you. We think it’s time that changes!”

“ _ We _ think so, huh?” Alex was tempted to snort at the hilarity of it. If only they knew just how close he and Miles had gotten during the last couple of weeks! Their jaws would collectively hit the floor with a loud  thud! “Where is everyone then?” 

“ On their ways,” bit Matt. “If you want to throw a fit, do it now. Before they get here. Don’t ruin the night by bitching the whole time.” 

“ For somebody who claims to be my friend, you’re awfully rude tonight! And lately in general,” added Alex. “Have I done something?” He may be used to being blamed for close to everything that went wrong, as of late, but he was beginning to tire of it. Sure, he'd done his fair share of shit to deserve some of their distrust, but not nearly enough to warrant that kind of warning.

Matt placed the breadstick away and crossed his arms, sighing. “No. I’m sorry, Al.”

“ What's going on with us, Matt? We used to be friends. Best friends.”

“ We still are!” 

“ Doesn't feel like it anymore.”

Matt fidgeted with the table cloth. “Spoke to Marianne today.” Marianne their manager, also known as  _ Marianne The Beast _ or, as Alex liked to think of her, an ancient demon. “Is it true that you asked her not to book any studio time in the near future?”

“ The near future,” pointed Alex out, “sees us touring all over Europe. And…” They were back to the issue of his lack of new material. “The songs…they aren't ready yet.”

“ Maybe they are! Maybe we could all get them there if you shared them with us.”

Maybe, sneered Alex on the inside, Marianne should leave it to him to inform the band of something like that. She worked for them, not the other way around. He felt his shoulders burdened down. “Matt, I'm trying. You used to trust me when I kept music to myself. Have I ever disappointed you?”

“ You've never kept us out, Alex.” Matt was on the verge of elaborating when Nick, Jamie, and Miles arrived. “Let's just enjoy this night, okay?”

_ How? _ wanted Alex to ask. Nevertheless, he put on a smile and got up to properly greet the others. When it was his turn to shake Miles' hand, a genuine grin tugged on his lips. “Miles, good evening,” he began, making a bit of a show of it all. It was that, was it not? A great play? “I'd like to use this opportunity to officially welcome you to our tour. I see no reason why you and I can't put the past behind us. Right?” The re was a glint in Miles' eyes that Alex liked. He sat down and patted the chair next to him. “Sit  her e.” 

His suggestion was met by a round of curious glances. He put on a display of utter innocence. “What? I don't bite.” Not in polite company, anyway. “Don't worry. I didn't undo the screw s of the chair or anything like that. You're quite safe to sit next to me,  _ Kane. _ ”

Miles chuckled. “Thanks,  _ Turner _ .” 

Alex beamed. Placing one arm on the table, the other he kept at his side, by Miles, and his little finger immediately spread out to brush his thigh. It lasted a fraction of a moment. But it was enough to get Miles to twitch. 

“ Stop that,” he hissed under his breath, trying to be as subtle as possible. 

Shaking his head almost unnoticeably, Alex kept an expression of complete virtue. 

“ Miles,” spoke Nick, interrupting their little moment, “are you excited to join us? We're pretty easy to tour with. Most of us anyway!”

Rolling his eyes, Alex instantly forgot about teasing Miles. “I said I'd be on my best behavior!” The words came out harsher than he'd intended. 

And Nick blinked, stunned. “I was actually talking about Jamie. Then again, he and Miles  have been  friends for years, so he' s probably used to him eating garlic all the time!” 

“ Ha. Ha,” deadpanned Jamie. “Very funny.” 

The rest of the band got into a bit of banter. Alex, meanwhile, tried to relax again. It hadn’t always been like that. They hadn’t always assumed the worst of each other. And he wished back a time in which he was capable of laughing at jokes, rather than automatically taking them as personal insults.

He jerked up when he felt Miles' hand brush over his knee. Startled out of his thoughts, he met his eyes covertly. He wanted to scoot closer, to have a little moment with him. One of their usual ones. One that included whispering to each other, sitting too close, and touching that bordered on impropriety. But he couldn't do any of that, because some pair  of  eyes was constantly aimed at him. 

He felt like a bloody lion trapped in the world's smallest cage. His frustration grew fast. His nerves were stretched impossibly thin.

Miles put his hand in front of his mouth, whispering, “are you alright?”

Glancing at him, Alex detected a note of concern. Worry. What funny things that did to his insides. He took a deep breath. “It's okay.” Making an attempt to change the topic, to distract himself from it all, he dipped his gaze to Miles' jacket. “Nice one.” 

Smiling bashfully at him, Miles' eyes began to sparkle. “Someone I care about told me it'd look good on me. Made me buy it.”

“ He sounds like a very smart guy.”

“ He is that,” agreed Miles.

“ I went shopping as well today, as it so happens. And somebody I care about made me buy something, too.” Alex grinned when he found that he had all of  Miles' attention firmly in his grasp. “Something red,” he  murmured . 

“ What are you whispering about,” wondered Nick.

Alex leaned back. He felt caught. Interrupted. His mood was going from up to down within a matter of moments. “Just…”

“ Underwear,” said Miles, sporting a roguish look and little concern. His hand returned to Alex's knee. 

This time, he pulled away. 

Miles kept his smug expression. “You were telling me something about underwear. Why don't you tell all of us?”

_ Fucker, _ thought Alex. Could everyone see that sparkle of mischief in Miles' eyes or was he the only one? On every other day, he'd have relished the opportunity to mess with him as well, to rattle his coolness, to get him to stutter. Tonight, though, he lacked the energy. And the wit. He quickly made up some story. “There’s, um… Ran into a fan the other day. She told me she underwear with my name on it. Weird fans we have, don’t we? I was just wondering if Miles had those fans as well.” 

Laughter came from Miles. “Haven't run into one of those yet.”

“ Lucky you,” said Jamie. “Some are a bit crazy!”

“ Yes,” agreed Matt. “Remember the one last year…”

As they reminisced about fans and those who barely deserved to be called that, Alex dipped his head towards Miles. “The fuck was that?”

“ Just trying to joke around with you,” he said. “That was a lame story, by the way. You used to be so good at making up great bullshit!” 

“ What was I supposed to say, huh?” He had to put in an extra effort to keep his voice low and he felt that tension beginning to take a hold all over again. He wanted to take it in stride, take it all in humor, in which he knew it was meant. But his shoulders felt painfully sore, a fierce headache was forming and despite his best attempts, his foul temper was showing its teeth. “You threw me to the wolves!” 

Miles grinned, dangerously unaware. He let his tongue lick along his lips, wetting them, bringing Alex to the edge of explosion. “Stop looking at me like that,” he hissed angrily.

“ Like what?”

“ Like I'm edible and you can't wait for dessert.” 

Miles had the guts to look completely innocent. Alex, on the other hand, got restless. 

“ I want to see.”

“ See what?” bit Alex, bothered by the fact that he had to watch his words and control his voice. Was there anything at the moment that did not make things worse?

“ Did you just growl?” Jamie looked up from the menu he was reading and stared at Alex. 

“ Just hungry,” he lied. 

Next to him, Miles laughed. “I bet.”

It was such an innocent joke, but Alex snapped. “Be quiet, would you?!” 

Miles kept going. “You’re being testy, tonight.” 

“ Here we go again,” muttered Nick. 

“ Are you trying to piss me off?” 

“ I’m not. It was just a joke.” Miles held up in his hands in defeat. “I’ll stop it. Promise.” 

Alex couldn’t take it anymore. All that attention, all that expectation. He got up. “I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a minute.” 

He headed straight for the men’s room, found it empty and beelined for a stall. He just needed a moment of solitude. A brief second to catch his mind. 

But before he could close the door, Miles slipped through it and shut it for him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, leaning impossibly close. “You looked tense and restless. I was just trying to joke around with you. Mess with your head a little. I wasn’t trying to piss you off.” He looked deeply into Alex’s eyes. Anxious. He got even closer. Touched the tip of his nose against Alex's. “Talk to me.” 

Alex’s eyes fell shut. His fingers curled into Miles’ shirt. “I’ve been on edge all night.” He should have taken all of it with humor.  But, he’d been forced to go to this dinner. There was a mountain of unresolved tension between him and the band. Add to that, the crackling, explosive friction between him and Miles and, voila, a perfect storm. “Back there…I felt trapped. I snapped at you. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to, just…I fee l like I’m bloody bursting or something.” 

“ What can I do to help?” 

A snort escaped him. “Honestly?” His hands pulled on Miles’ shirt, bringing him closer. Alex leaned his head forward. Their foreheads touched. The truth slipped from his lips before he could stop it. “I want you to drop to your knees and swallow me whole. I want you to suck me off. I want you to make me cum so hard that I’ll drop the floor and pass out.” 

Miles' eyes went wide.

His admission sank in.

_ Fuck! _

Had he really just said that out loud?

As Alex still worried about his confession, wondering if he’d said too much, fearing he’d spoken too bluntly, he felt Miles’ hands move to his belt. There was a darkness in his eyes that he'd never seen before. It was all-consuming and vibrant, it spread, and it feasted, and it roared hungrily. A shudder rushed through  Alex’s  body. He quickly covered Miles' hands with his. “Don’t!” 

A hint of a smile danced on  Miles’  lips, fingers wiggling to continue. “You said—”

Alex brought a hand to Miles’ face and tilted it up, met his eyes and asked, struck, “You’d do it for me?” What was it that he saw in his gaze? He didn’t recognize it. 

Miles rubbed the tip of his nose against Alex’s again. “You think it’s a hardship? You think I’d do you a favor?” Another rub. Then he smiled. Soft and gentle. The one where his eyes got all sparkly and big. Alex felt his knees grow weak. “Have you even the slightest idea how much I want you?” 

No. He had no idea. He could no longer measure want. He only knew that there was want before Miles and want after Miles. And what he was feeling now was no match for him. It was overpowering. 

Despite the fact that he was so very tempted to let go of Miles’ hands and let him do what he so readily offered, for the first time in his life it mattered to him where it would take place. Because he wanted to remember it. 

“ Not here. Not in a stall. Not like this. Not for the first time.” His throat was dry. His voice  was  hoarse. 

“ So, there’s nothing I can do to take some of that tension away?” 

“ Not at the moment,” whispered Alex, still clinging to Miles. “Except…maybe…” He bit his lip. A memory came back to him. “You know…there’s this thing that you do…I’ve seen you do it.” He was blushing, no doubt. He felt stupid and embarrassed for asking it. 

“ What is it?” wondered Miles, amused and eager at the same time. 

Alex looked away, feeling pathetic and stupid. “Will you do the human crab? It always makes me laugh.” 

Miles’ eyes went big. “You’ve seen me do that?” 

“ A few times.” If an orgasm was off-limits, maybe a bit of laughter would help. It was a silly thing Miles did and for some inane reason Alex found it hilarious. 

Miles let go and took a step back. “If anyone had told me a month ago that I’d do that for you, in a bathroom stall, while your band is waiting outside, assuming we’re busy killing each other, I’d have died of laughter!” He angled his arms upwards. Then he bent his knees. Pulled his lips into a serious line. And moved from side to side. “Enjoy.”

Alex did. He laughed mightily. And it truly did help. It took his mind off, it made him ease up, made him not care for all the expectations he put upon himself. 

Miles stopped moving. Straightened up. 

Alex placed his hand behind Miles’ head, pulled it towards him and pressed his lips to his cheek for a long, hard kiss, fighting his mightiest not to ravish his lips instead. “Thank you.” 

He felt Miles’ smile against his own cheek. “You’re welcome.” 

“ There’s a chance they might send someone to check on us. We should get back.” 

“ Yep.” 

The same reluctance that visibly clung to Miles, Alex felt as well. “What would we be doing right now if we were at your place? Alone. Would we be having dinner right now?” 

Miles unlocked the door and put one hand on the handle. His eyes lingered on Alex. “No.” His focus slipped to his belt and Alex felt a sudden, feverish heat all over his skin. “I doubt we would have ever made it out of the hallway.”

“ Wait,” whispered Alex.

Miles stopped.

His grabbed his  own  belt buckle and swallowed. Not nervously. Hungrily. “You've asked to see the red briefs.”

This time, Miles was the one putting an end to it, covering Alex's fast-working fingers. “Here's what will happen if you keep going. I'm going to kiss you.” His lids were half-closed, his voice was thick. “And we both know we won't be able to stop at that.” He reached for the door again and pulled it open. “We made it this far, haven't we? We can make it a little further, can't we?”

Alex followed him out of the stall. “The second you and I are alone and in private,” he stated, brutally honest and no longer caring  about  bluntness, “I'll have you. I'll have you in ways that you've never even imagined. I will have you in such a manner that will make everyone else, past or future, seem bleak and boring and unable just to show you that I can. I'm—”

“ Fair warning,” shot Miles. “One more word and I'll fucking lose it.”

Alex's  mouth closed . But he flashed one hell of a cocky smirk.

“ Let's get fucking outta here!” Grumbled Miles.

Back at the table, the three remaining Monkeys waited for an explanation when Alex and Miles sat back down. “All is good,” reassured Alex. “We didn’t fight. Miles apologized for his actions. He told me he felt bad and promised to be nicer from now on.” He snuck a glance at him and spotted the little, almost invisible grin on his lips. “I graciously accepted his apology and offered some kindness of my own.” 

The grin became a laugh. “We’ll make do. There’ll be no drama during the tour. Right, Alex?” 

“ Right, Miles. We’ll be very grown-up about it all. Very grown-up.” 

-

Where the hell was he? 

Alex paced the hallway of London’s O2 backstage area, impatiently waiting for Miles to appear. He hadn’t seen him since last night. For the entire rest of the evening, after their little moment in the bathroom, Alex had entertained the notion of going home with Miles. 

It would have been perfect. Matt could have Alex’s apartment. He loved to listen to loud music on the nights before concerts, and he’d have the place to himself to do just that. 

Meanwhile, Alex would be enjoying a thoroughly satisfying fuck or two, or three, with Miles. Only, Jamie had suggested sharing a cab with Miles. Then Matt had invited Nick over for a spontaneous jam session at Alex’s place  _ with  _ him. And he’d been stuck. Bloody stuck and fucking unsatisfied! 

Alex took another look down the hallway and came to rest in front of Miles’ dressing room. He should be here by now. His rehearsal had ended twenty minutes ago. He’d seen his band head towards the cafeteria. Why wasn’t— 

“ Alex?” 

He spun around and saw him walk up from the other side. He was alone. And he was smiling. What a smile he had! 

“ Have you been waiting for me?” He chuckled. “I waited in front of your dressing room. Around the corner.” 

He’d waited for him? Alex felt the corners of lips move upwards. “Last night didn’t really end the way I had hoped it would.” 

“ No. I mean, it was a nice evening,” admitted Miles as he unlocked his door. Alex made no effort to offer him more space. Their arms pressed against another. Heads nearly touched. “But…” Gazes locked. “It could have…” 

“ Yes,” agreed Alex. His voice strained. “It could have…” His eyes became heavy at the sight of Miles. So close, so very near, he was a gravitational force too strong to withstand. As Alex felt the door behind him give away, he slipped inside first. His hand wrapped around Miles’. He shut the door behind them. And flattened him to it. “I’m going to kiss you now.” Alex leaned closer as Miles’ eyes turned wide. “I’m giving you an option. You have three seconds to say no. If you do, I’ll never mention this moment again. We’ll be friends. We’ll tour. We’ll—”

“ Do it.”

“ Kiss you?” His voice broke. God, he hadn't even come for that! He'd spontaneously decided to do it, because seeing him always made him want to do it! So, he'd said he'd do it. He was a fair person and figured Miles deserved the chance to say  _ no _ .

But, for some reason, he hadn’t prepared for a  _ yes _ . Now what?

“ Kiss me,” breathed Miles.

Alex's heart was beating thunderously. He was nervous. Unbelievable! He'd never been that before a kiss. And he'd kissed plenty! “You said you'd never do that. You said we'd burn alive!” What an awful mess he was making of it! What was wrong with him?

“ Maybe I long to be set alight.” Miles’ words were none more than mere whispers and his soft puffs of air crashed against Alex’s trembling lips. “Kiss me.” 

“ Slow?” 

Miles nodded. His eyes held such longing, such infinite yearning. Alex couldn’t stop staring. His hands reached out, moved upwards to his face at a snail’s pace. Fingertips got there first. His skin was so soft, so warm. His features were marvelous. They were endlessly fascinating. Alex bumped his nose against that of Miles’. “I’ll do it now.” His thumb brushed his lower lip once. Gently. “I’m going to kiss you now.” 

And then he did. 

Innocently. Tenderly. He kept his lips close as he pressed them to Miles’ mouth. There, they just rested. Lingered. But they tingled. They tingled unfathomably much. They tingled everywhere, in every crevice, in every last spot. He was moaning already, and their tongues hadn’t even touched! Alex was confounded and lost, and he melted like chocolate in a hot summer’s sun, right there, in Miles’ arms. 

Maybe a second had passed, or maybe an entire lifetime. Alex didn’t know when he leaned back, breathless and dizzy. His body was plastered against Miles’, from his legs to his chest. Heat glued them together. “More?” 

“ More,” croaked Miles. 

And Alex leaned in again. Firmer, this time. Heartbeat by heartbeat, his  unsteadiness  drifted away, leaving a void which his desire immediately filled. His lips grazed Miles’ upper one. This time, he parted his mouth ever so slightly and it allowed for deeper contact. Now it was Miles who moaned. 

He leaned back just a fraction, just enough to speak. To beg. “More!” 

And Alex gave him more. His mouth opened. His hands grabbed Miles’ head and he kissed him. Oh, did he kiss him this time! Hard and passionately and wild and loud and messy and consuming. He left no spot in Miles’ mouth untouched. His tongue plunged and plundered. And Miles replied with an echoing fervor that matched his own. 

Thirteen years of fights, of frustration, of pent-up tension and increasing emotions exploded within a single kiss that left both desperate for oxygen, yet unable to part for it. 

In a sudden and swift move, Alex felt himself spun around and pressed up against the door as Miles went for his lips with an enthusiasm so strong that he felt his eyes rolling to the back of his head. 

He’d never been kissed before. He knew that now. Everything he thought he knew about the act turned out to be insignificant and incomparable. So many lips had come before Miles’, yet none of them could measure up. Fisting his fingers into his hair, Alex tugged him closer. He wanted more. He needed more. As though his life depended on it. 

Miles’ lips slipped from Alex’s. He ventured along his cheek, towards his earlobe, then down, where they settled on his neck. Arching against him, arching towards him, Alex let out a wanton sigh. Miles suckled on his willing skin, let his teeth play with it,  and Alex rewarded him with a keen moan. 

“ Alex? Open up. I know you’re in there!” Jamie called from the other side of the door. 

Miles leaned back. His eyes were wide and wondrous, filled with lust and longing. And uncertainty. 

Alex seized him, tried pulling him back. “Ignore him,” he whispered. “He’ll go away! Kiss me again!” 

And Miles did. For half a very passionate second, their lips reunited. Until… 

“ Nick saw you enter. Open the fucking door, Alex! We have to talk. Now!” 

“ I’m fucking busy,” roared Alex. He was busy fucking. Or, rather, trying to get there. 

“ Now, Alex!” 

Miles let go, annoyed, rubbed his face with both hands. 

Alex rolled his eyes. Whined. “Nooo!” He stepped away from the door, towards Miles. He was determined to finish what they had begun. Jamie could wait! Hands went for Miles’ shirt. His crumpled, half-undone shirt. How had that happened? With a sly, hazy smile he reached for his face and cupped one cheek. The other hand trailed the line of undone buttons. “Didn’t even notice doing that,” he hushed. 

“ Oh, I noticed.” Miles sank into Alex’s touch. 

It brought a grin to his face. He opened another button. 

Jamie began pounding on the door. “Fucking open the door, Alex. I mean it!” 

“ God, damnit!” Anger overcame Alex as he detached from Miles. “The fuck do you want right now?” he yelled as he made his way to the door. 

“ You haven’t written a fucking new song in months. Not a single fucking word! And I want to know why your band – your friends – are the last to find out!?” 

Alex’s hand froze as it held the door’s handle. He slowly turned towards Miles. His breathing was shallow. His hands sweaty. His words shaky. “You told ‘em?” 

Miles blinked. “What?” 

“ You  promised,” croaked Alex. His voice was strained for an entirely different reason now. “I trusted you.” 

Shaking his head, taking a step towards Alex, Miles’ eyes no longer shone with arousal. “Alex, I haven’t said a word to anyone. I swear!” 

“ Nobody else knew.” 

“ I haven’t said anything!” Miles’ voice got louder. Defensive. 

“ Tell me why,” begged Alex. “Make me understand.” He’d put his faith in Miles. And he’d done it so willingly. So unconditionally. For the first time in a truly long time, he’d taken a chance. He’d risked something. He’d offered friendship. More, even. He’d offered a piece of himself. “Explain it to me.” 

“ Alex, I haven’t said a word to anyone.” Miles kept repeating himself. “You made me promise and I kept my promise!” 

When Miles reached for his hand, Alex pulled it away. His touch was  no  longer pleasant. No longer warm. Now, it stung with betrayal. “Liar.” 

“ I’m not lying,” stated Miles, angry. “Why won’t you believe me?” 

“’ Cause nobody else knew!” 

Jamie pounded on the door again. “Alex!” 

Alex tore it open. Walked out.  And pulled it shut behind him.  He walked past Jamie, away from Miles and towards nowhere specific. He just wanted to leave. He needed to leave. 

“ Talk to me, damnit!” Jamie caught up with him. Pulled on his arm. Made him stop. “Why didn’t you—” The words stopped. 

Unable to get away, Alex sighed. “Why didn’t I say anything?” He looked at Jamie, only to find him staring at him with an expression of pure shock. “What?” He wasn’t in the mood for any guessing games. “Fuck, what is it?” Looking down at himself, towards his shirt, where Jamie was looking at, Alex tensed up. 

Almost all of his buttons were undone. Alex recalled Miles’ lips and what they had done to his neck. He must have left a mark. No doubt. 

Jamie met his eyes. “What happened in that room, Alex?” 

Everything. 

Alex spun around. Closed his buttons. “Nothing.” He walked away. 

.

-

**SPOILER CHAPTER 10**

#

Fuck! 

They were too good at it. Thirteen years of arguing had turned them into a pair of experts. And while the last years had been mellow, they still knew how to bite. And, boy! Miles had bitten down hard. He saw the hurt in Alex’s eyes, saw glimpses of pain and flashes of worry. 

And there was nothing he could do or say to make it better. Not at the moment, anyway. Not when Jamie was shooting daggers at him and not when Matt and Nick were watching in awe at the sparring match they were witnessing. Alex moved to the other side of the massive stage as Miles sighed heavily. 

# 


	10. Scenes Of A Crime

**_2009_ **

_Miles sat in the corner of the exclusive club, on a comfortable leather seat, clutching one of the finest Whiskeys the establishment had to offer. He’d dressed up, suit and all that. He’d sharpened his tongue and pointed his claws knowing he’d run into Alex today. They hadn’t seen each other in weeks and Miles wasn’t too proud to admit that he’d missed quarreling with him. Fighting with Alex was a nice way to end any day. Only, once he’d arrived, once he’d laid eyes on Alex, all anticipation had dissolved. Instantly._

_Alex was a mess today. And Miles was enjoying none of it._

_Jamie, next to him, sighed heavily. “She really did a number on him! He’s just sitting there, all glum and heartbroken. I’ve never seen him like that.”_

_Following Jamie’s line of sight, Miles’ attention settled on Alex, who was at the bar. An empty glass sat forgotten in his hand and his eyes stared aimlessly at the wall in front of him. “He looks miserable, for sure.”_

_“_ _I’m tempted to send you over and start a fight with him just so he’ll stop staring at that bloody wall!”_

_“_ _I doubt he’d even acknowledge me,” said Miles, still looking at Alex. “They dated for years. Why did she break up with him tonight? Seems sudden.”_

_Jamie shrugged. “I didn’t hear the whole argument. She said she fell out of love with him. I did hear the part where she said she only stayed around for this long because she was so used to being his girlfriend.”_

_“_ _Ouch,” winced Miles. He felt genuinely bad for Alex. The guy could be an asshole, no doubt. He was, most days! But he didn’t deserve to be brushed aside like that._

_“_ _He’ll hide in a hole now. He’ll barricade the doors and write tragic love songs. He isn’t like you and me. We get over things. He’ll wallow in his broken heart for as long as it will have him!” Jamie finished his drink and got up. “I can’t let him sit there by himself. We’ll talk later, okay?”_

_“_ _Cheer him up. Good luck.”_

_Miles got up as well and went to the back, for a smoke. The alley was crowded with people who all had the same desire and he exchanged a few words with some of the ones he knew until he was talked to by someone he truly didn’t expect to see. Or hear from._

_Alex’s ex._

_“_ _Is he in there? Nobody else will tell me. And I know his band is in there, so I don’t want to go inside unless he’s there.”_

_“_ _What makes you think I’ll tell you?”_

_“_ _You hate him.”_

_“_ _No, I don’t. I told you last time, didn’t I?” It was a common misconception. It was much more complicated than four letters could ever dare to describe. “He’s bloody heartbroken!”_

_“_ _You think I don't know? I don’t love him anymore. I didn’t mean to hurt him. But I still care for him, though! I just want to know if he’s okay.”_

_“_ _He’s not okay!” Miles flipped the half-smoked cigarette away. “And there’s really nothing you can do to change that.” He stepped in front of her when she made her way towards the door. “When you go in there, what will you tell him? That you stand by your decision? That you had to do it? That you don’t love him, but hope you can remain friends?”_

_A look of annoyance befell her face as he kept blocking her way. “I want him to know that breaking up was a good thing. And sooner or later, he’ll realize it as well.”_

_“_ _He’s not going to realize it now! And, just so you know, Jamie is not leaving his side tonight. You’ll have to deal with him before you even get to Alex. Matt and Nick are there, too. When they see you, what do you think will happen? You want to do Alex a favor? Give him some space.”_

_“_ _I could just use the front door, you know. You can’t block every entry.”_

_“_ _Do it. Go find him. Crush him some more and say you’re doing it because you care for him!”_

_“_ _I can’t believe you. Last time I saw you and him together, you tossed insults at him that even I had never heard of! Suddenly you’re looking out for him?”_

_Miles crossed his arms. “What can I say. He’s no fun being broken-hearted and all that. I’m just making sure you’re not permanently ruining him for me.”_

_At that she scoffed. “Asshole.” And left._

_With rolling eyes, he lit himself another cigarette. The alley had gotten a little less crowded and when he spun around, to lean against the wall, he was stunned to find Alex lurking near the door. “How much of that did you hear?”_

_“_ _Almost all, I presume.” He stepped towards him. Lit himself his own cigarette. “Selfish, huh? Glad to hear. For a second I feared you actually cared about me.”_

_Miles could hear the tiredness and the exhaustion in Alex’s voice. He saw the dark spots beneath his eyes. And he noted the edge in his tone, that line he tried to balance, between taking his remark about selfishness at face value and wondering if, maybe, he shouldn’t._

_Alex took a drag from his Marlboro. “Looking sharp tonight. Got plans later?”_

_“_ _Dressed up for you. We haven’t seen each other in weeks. I thought I suit up for the momentous reunion!”_

_A tiny, little grin made its way to Alex’s face as his eyes traveled across Miles’ body. His avid attention made Miles stand a bit taller. “How disappointed you must be to find me lacking my usual spark. I’ll heal fast. Don’t worry. Not long and we’ll be back to our regular fights.”_

_“_ _Good to hear. All that sadness that you’re wearing, it’s making you look old.” Miles smirked. “And I have this thing about arguing with old people. It’s just rude and wrong.”_

_“_ _You prefer me vigorous and fit?”_

_“_ _I do.” Silence fell over them. Miles was done with his cigarette and as he stepped on the butt, killing it, his gaze remained on the ground while his voice dipped low. “Jamie is worried about you.”_

_“_ _Jamie?”_

_“_ _Matt and Nick, too, I assume.”_

_“_ _What about you?”_

_“_ _I thought we already established that I’m only in this for selfish reasons and that I care very little about you.”_

_Alex nodded the barest bit. “Very little is still more than nothing. Are you sure I’ve got nothing to fear?”_

_“_ _You can rest easy, Turner. The second my feelings for you will increase, you’ll know. It’ll mark the end of the world as we know it. Doom will be upon us, then. Armageddon will be imminent.”_

_“_ _Death and despair,” mused Alex._

_“_ _The four horsemen of the Apocalypse will call on you to inform you of my state of heart.”_

_“_ _They’ll tell me you’ve begun liking me?”_

_“_ _They’ll tell you that hell froze over.”_

_A chuckle from Alex. “Good. So, nothing to fear.”_

_“_ _Absolutely nothing.”_

_Miles made his way back to the door when he heard Alex call his name._

_“_ _Kane, don’t tell anyone she was here. I just want to forget it. All of it. I don't want to discuss it or talk about it. I want to pretend that this day never happened. If Jamie finds out, he’ll tell Katie, who’ll call her and…you know how those things go.”_

_Miles nodded. “Okay.”_

**Present Day**

“It’s like fucking Armageddon out there!” Jamie stood at the window of Miles’ living room apartment, sporting a fierce look of disapproval. As Miles sat on his couch, acoustic in hand, he wondered if that look was truly aimed at the rainy weather. He had a hunch it was aimed at him. “We missed you during lunch today. Your band was there. Victoria said you had an appointment you couldn’t miss?”

“Yep.” He had to take a very important nap. 

“Alex didn’t show up, either.”

Shocking. The little fucker ran and hid somewhere. Freaking coward that he was. Always choosing the easy way. Never sticking around for anything. “Whatever.” 

“Saw him leaving your dressing room yesterday.”

“Did you?” Miles wanted to roll his eyes. Jamie was about as subtle as a fully loaded freight train! “Well, I wasn’t there. Maybe he mixed up the rooms or something.” 

“And the show, last night? You were incredible! You should have come up for our last song. We told you we wanted you there for the finale! You know _505_. You could have performed it with us!” 

And share a stage with Alex? No. “I was very tired.”

Jamie gaped at him. “Since when are you tired after performing? Come on!” 

Disbelief dropped from every latter and Miles was aware that he was sounding ridiculous. But there was simply no way he could endure Alex’s presence at the moment. He’d only end up strangling him. Or yelling at him. Or both. Fucking idiot. 

How could Alex assume that he’d betray his trust, huh? How dare he assume something so awful? He’d promised him that he’d keep his secret safe! 

And to be accused of something like that only seconds after they had shared a kiss so unbelievable and intense that it still clung to his lips? That only added insult to the injury! 

“Did something go down between you and Alex?”

Yep. A fucking fully loaded freight train! “What are you talking about?”

“In your dressing room. Yesterday. Did something happen? I’m your friend. You can trust me!”

_You’re Alex’s friend, too. Go ask him!_

But Miles bit his tongue from saying that. “No. Like I said, I wasn’t there.” 

“Pretty sure he made out with someone in your dressing room.” 

Miles took a deep breath as Jamie’s eyes burned a hole into his own. “Jamie, I love you and I appreciate you coming here and telling me I was missed. But if you want to ask me something, bloody ask me!”

He did, then. “Are you and Alex fucking?”

“No.” 

Jamie spun around, wildly gesticulating. “But something is going on! I know it!”

“Read it from my lips, Jamie. Nothing is going on between Alex and me. He and I are just trying to coexist.” Truer words were never spoken. 

Alex hadn’t texted, hadn’t called, hadn’t come by, hadn’t even so much as looked at him since he’d accused him of being a liar. And if cutting ties was such an easy act for him, then why should Miles make an effort to fix anything?

He had been right from the beginning. They weren’t made for kisses. They weren’t even made for friendship!

“Will you be tired again after tonight’s performance or can we call you out for _505_?”

“Expect me to be asleep by then.” 

“We’re leaving for Rome tomorrow. Is this going to be a theme for the rest of the tour? Will you do your thing and we’ll do ours? We had so many plans, Miles! You said it’d be months of adventures and fun. And now you’re hiding yourself away.”

He scoffed hard. “I’m not doing that!” The suggestion that he was doing what Alex was doing was rude, to say the least! “I’m not—”

“Not what?” Jamie’s attention perked. 

Miles looked away quickly. “I’ll fucking be there, okay? There! Happy now?”

“I want you on stage for _505_! Be there at six p.m. – that way, we can rehearse at least once!” He grabbed his jacket. “I know something happened between you and Alex. I’ll find out what it is. I’m done with petty shit the two of you have got going on. I want this tour to be memorable! In a good way!” 

-

Well, it certainly promised to be memorable. Miles leaned against a massive amp, guitar in hand, observing with barely contained annoyance as Alex yelled at one of the sound guys for having plugged in the wrong guitar. 

Judging from the barely there, but hard to ignore smirk on one of the guy’s faces, Miles assumed they had done it on purpose to mess with Alex. He wouldn’t blame them! 

“Give it a rest, will you?”

Miles’ words ripped Alex’s attention away from the sound guys. Nostrils flaring, ears steaming, Alex’s glare was fiery. “What’s that? Was I addressing you?”

Miles bit back a snort. “Can we please finish fucking rehearsals? Some of us have to perform sooner than others!” 

“Remind me, why are you joining us for this song?”

“I asked him to,” snapped Jamie from the sidelines. 

“We want that,” added Matt from his spot behind the drums. 

“I would have preferred to be in bed by then.” Miles held onto Alex’s gaze, kept it locked up and took joy in the brief moment of irritation in his eyes as he said the word _bed_. 

Alex’s eyes sharpened. “To sleep?” A sneer slipped from his lips. “That old, ey?” 

“Maybe that’s what you use your bed for.” 

Alex’s eyes turned bleak.

_Fuck!_

They were too good at it. Thirteen years of arguing had turned them into a pair of experts. And while the last years had been mellow, they still knew how to bite. And, boy! Miles had bitten down hard. He’d drilled his teeth in and feasted where he knew it’d be most painful. He saw the hurt in Alex’s eyes, saw glimpses of pain and flashes of worry. 

And there was nothing he could do or say to make it better. Not at the moment, anyway. Not when Jamie was shooting daggers at him and not when Matt and Nick were watching in awe at the sparring match they were witnessing. Alex moved to the other side of the massive stage as Miles sighed heavily.

“Once more. On three. Matt,” bellowed Alex, “cue us in. Do it NOW.” 

Miles kept his mouth shut as he morphed into the professional he wished he’d been two minutes ago. Sneaking glances at Alex, he felt worse than he had in years. 

It was as they said. 

Once an asshole…

The test run worked well. 

There would be no problem playing the song live at the end of the night. As Jamie, Matt, and Nick huddled near the drums, Miles took a few steps towards Alex, who applied the finishing touches to the mic stand. 

“What I said—” 

Alex shook his head as he turned away. “I don’t give a fuck.”

“You do,” hissed Miles. 

“I don’t,” gritted Alex harshly. “Go fuck somebody and see if I care, _Kane_.”

Miles flinched at the sound of his last name. He got closer. “Yesterday—”

“Yesterday, I was stupid. I don’t make the same mistake twice!”

“You already did!” 

Mic forgotten, Alex spun around to glare at Miles. “What’s that supposed to mean, huh?”

Now it was Miles’ turn to show his pain. “You’ve never taken my word for anything! You always assume the worst of me!”

**_2009_ **

_Miles sat in Jamie’s kitchen, antsy and restless. Alex was sitting across from him, a look of utter disdain on his face. “You want to say something,” asked Miles, grimly, “or just stare at me for the rest of the day?”_

_“_ _I don’t want to start a fight on Katie’s birthday.”_

_“_ _Then I suggest you don’t.”_

_A week had passed since he’d seen Alex heartbroken and glum. And, since then, his spirits had certainly recovered! “You’ve forced my hand, it appears.”_

_Miles rolled his eyes. “Go ahead, then. Get it over with. What have I done now that disrupted your peaceful life?”_

_“_ _You told ‘em that she came by the club. She called me the day after. Told me that Katie had called her and snapped at her for not leaving me alone. Thanks to you, I had to talk to her.”_

_“_ _I’ve done nothing. I didn’t say a word. And I didn’t say anything because you asked me not to.”_

_“_ _I specifically didn’t want anyone to know ‘cause I knew it would become a thing! I love ‘em, alright! But they’re a fucking meddling bunch and I made myself very clear when I asked to keep it to yourself!”_

_Miles got up and placed his hands on the table in front of him, leaning down and towards Alex. “How much more clearer do you need me to get? I did not say a fucking word to anyone!”_

_“_ _Nobody else knew.”_

_“_ _It was a fucking public street and a busy night. Anyone could have seen her! A bunch of people we knew were in the alley with me. I didn’t say anything!”_

_Alex shook his head. “Nobody else would have any interest in saying anything to anyone.”_

_Miles’ hands balled into fists. “It wasn’t me, for fuck’s sake!”_

_“_ _Damnit, can’t you ever admit to anything?” Alex got up as well, roughly shoving the chair away as he did so. “For once in your life, say it was you!”_

_“_ _It WASN’T me!”_

_“_ _Liar!”_

_Miles seethed. “_ _Say that again, Turner!”_

_And he did. “Liar.”_

_“_ _You’re such a pathetic little asshole! No wonder she—” Miles stopped. The words froze on his lips._

_Alex was bristling. “No wonder she what?”_

_He shook his head. “_ _Fucking shove it, Turner! Shut the fuck up and—”_

_“_ _HEY!” Matt placed a hand on Miles’ shoulder, pulling him away. “Let’s go. Come on!”_

_But he refused to budge. Instead, his eyes were glued to Alex. “Give me one reason why I should have said anything about that to anyone!”_

_Alex’s voice turned icy. “’Cause I asked you not to. And you get off on pissing me off! It’s that simple.”_

_“_ _Wow.” Miles sneered in disgust. “And you sure like it simple, don’t you? Black and white? Right and wrong? If I wanted to piss you off, all I’d have to do is say that—” Once again, he stopped talking. He tore his eyes away from Alex, rubbed his face in disgust. He was sickened by what he’d almost said._

_“_ _Leave with me,” ordered Matt. “Now!” Miles felt his fingers dig into his skin, leaving bruises. He blinked and took a breath. As he met Matt’s warning eyes, it occurred to him that he, too, had a good idea of what Miles had almost spoken out loud. Overcome with a burst of shame, he let himself get dragged away. “I need to get out of here! Tell Jamie and Katie I’ll drop by tomorrow.”_

_“_ _What’s happening right now?” asked Alex, irritated._

_“_ _He’s doing you a fucking favor!” said Matt._

**Present Day**

“Why did you play Jamie’s guitar tonight?” 

Miles dapped his face with a towel when Alex’s curious voice filled the quiet little corner he’d chosen for a moment of peace. He’d just finished his set and Alex ought to be on stage right now. Or, at least, get there or be behind it. He should definitely not be here, least of all, in his presence!

He was tempted to ignore him entirely. He wanted to turn around and walk away mutely. He wanted to be a moody, angry kid and wallow in his hurt feelings until the world would knock on his door and apologize for all the bad things that it had let happen to him. But, grown-up, slightly if only barely wiser, and tired to the bone of their constant arguments, Miles merely sighed. 

Alex asked again. “You got yourself an acoustic just for this tour. I know, ‘cause I got it for you. I saw it on stage. In a stand. Yet, you played Jamie’s. Why?”

Lowering the towel, he looked at Alex, drained and empty. “I’m sure you can figure it out on your own.”

“What did you mean when you said I’ve made the same mistake twice?” 

“Well, _Turner_ , if only you could figure that one out. But you never will. Because you don’t listen to me when I tell you something. You don’t believe me on principal. And you refuse to accept the mere idea that I can uphold a promise.”

“Nobody else knew,” gritted Alex, voice low, teeth grinding together. 

“See?” Miles shrugged exhaustedly. “Wouldn’t it be easy if somebody were to come forward and confess to the crime? I asked you to believe me. I asked you to put your trust in me. But you won’t.”

“Turner?” The stage manager came running towards them. “Your band is freaking out! You should be on stage right now!” 

Alex dragged his feet as the guy tugged him away. “Nobody else knew!” 

“You just don’t get it, do you?” Miles shook his head as he walked away. 

-

He couldn’t hide from him. Not on stage. Miles swallowed thickly as he tried keeping his cool but in the midst of the song, lost in his guitar, buzzing on the cheering crowd and high on adrenaline, he felt himself losing it. 

Alex was deliberately messing with his head. He had to be. Why else was he standing so close when Miles wanted nothing but distance? And hadn’t Alex been the one accusing him of being a liar? Why was he suddenly so needy for his proximity? 

Miles strummed on, tried hitting the right chords and almost, _almost_ messed up. And it had only happened because Alex was standing so damn close that Miles could actually smell his cologne. What a fucking scent that was! It ought to be put under lock and key! A dangerous potion, that one! 

“Move away,” he hissed when Alex leaned closer. “You’re fucking with my head!” 

“You’re fucking with mine!” 

“Move the fuck away,” he hissed again. And because Alex was a bloody dick and never did what he was told, Miles ended up moving away from him. 

Thank God the song came to an end. The audience had noticed none of Miles’ struggles. At least, that’s what he hoped. Putting his guitar into some stagehand’s care, Miles walked off to the side as the band took a last bow. Or he tried to, anyway, but Jamie held him back and pulled him towards the front with him. Changing positions, bringing him next to Alex, Miles had no chance but to hold Alex’s fingers as they all raised their linked hands to take a bow. 

There it was again. That traitorous tingling that he experienced every given touch with Alex. Sometimes, it didn’t even take a touch. Sometimes, he just needed to be near enough. Like electricity, the current was always there, lurking, waiting for the spark to jump. 

“Let’s go for drinks,” suggested Nick, who was the first to let go and walk off. “Great club nearby. Anyone?”

“Yeah,” agreed Jamie. 

“Enjoy it.” Miles let go of Jamie’s hand after he’d all but ripped his fingers out of Alex’s grip. “I still need to pack and—”

“Bloody nonsense!” Matt linked their arms. “You’re coming with us! Have drinks with Alex. Maybe that’ll fix your problems! Alcohol always fixes things!” 

Jamie and Nick laughed hard, while Miles used the moment to sneak a glance at Alex. He couldn’t shake him off. He clung to his bones like a disease. Like a fever. 

Like a sad, depressed-looking cancer that was eating away at Miles’ weak soul. 

_Fuck!_

He wanted to cheer him up. Even now. Even though he bloody pissed off at him! But seeing him all glum and lost was undoing him. He wanted to make him smile because he had such a gorgeous smile. He wanted to hold him and kiss him and… 

Miles wrestled out of Matt’s grasp. “We’ll do drinks in Rome. I need to go. Enjoy your night out!” 

“Don’t stay away because of me,” spoke Alex, quietly, once the rest of his band was out of earshot. 

Miles shook his head. “I just want to go to bed.” As he said it, his words from before came back to his mind. “Alone. Just like last night. _Alone_.”

“There truly is nobody?”

From the bottom of his throat, a loud groan threatened to burst free! How many times did he have to say it, huh? Roaring around, Miles wanted to snap, to bellow, to curse and to yell, fed up with this never-ending distrust. Did Alex really believe that he could spend the night with somebody when they’d kissed just yesterday? Had Alex not felt the world shift beneath his feet when their lips had touched? Had he been able to shrug off that kind of kiss so easily? Only, when Miles did turn around and saw Alex, all anger vanished. 

He looked so vulnerable and lost. His eyes were wide and stricken with emotion. He’d never looked more fragile. 

Miles didn’t know what to do or say. 

Jamie appeared next to Alex and wrapped his arm around him protectively. “You’ll join us for drinks, right Alex? I’ll make sure you get home safe tonight. But first, we’ll get you well-filled with liquor and all laughed-out. Time for some fun. Sure you don’t want to join us, Miles?”

He felt relief knowing Alex wouldn’t be alone tonight. And that did his head in, because, at the same time, a part of him wished Alex would suffer. He and his fucking trust issues! Miles understood why he had them. He didn’t even blame him for it. But why did Alex so adamantly refuse to trust him? That was the part that hurt. He’d never, not once, despite all their differences, given him a single reason not to trust him.

A headache began to form and seeing Alex looking at him like the world’s saddest and loneliest puppy didn’t help. On the contrary, it made it that much worse. “I’m sure. Enjoy your night. All of you. See you tomorrow.”

.

.

**Spoiler Chapter 11:**

#

Go away.

If Alex did that, then what? Miles wouldn’t come to him. There would be no contact between them, then. “I can’t,” he whispered. 

Miles lowered his head, his shoulders fell. “Why?” His voice broke as he glanced at him. “This is torture, Alex. Why can’t you ever let go?”

“What’s the alternative?” He stepped closer. God, he was desperate for him! He longed for Miles’ hands, for his warmth, for his lips! “If I let go, you walk away.” 

#


	11. Semantics

**_2009_ **

_Alex stood in the doorway of his apartment and he heard what was going on long before he reached the bedroom door and let his eyes catch up._

_He saw the naked body of his girlfriend as she sat on top of somebody he’d considered a friend for a while now._

_While he kept watching, unable to tear his eyes away, it occurred to him that he couldn’t decide which betrayal hurt more – that of his partner or that of his friend._

_At any rate, all of it hurt. It hurt a whole fucking lot._

_He must have made a noise or made his presence known in some other way, for his girlfriend was suddenly off the bed, cloaked in a robe, and frantically tossing articles of clothing at her lover._

_Huh._

_Funny._

_Here he’d thought he’d been her lover. Her love._

_“Alex? Shit. Fuck! When did you get here?”_

_Her question surprised him. “What difference would that answer make? Of all the things you could ask me right now, that’s what’s interesting you the most?”_

_Her face displayed a curious assortment of emotions. Confusion. Shock. Regret. But, also, annoyance. And Alex wondered why that one was there. Shouldn’t he be the one annoyed? After all, he’d have to get rid of his bed now. Get a new one. Buy new sheets. There was a lot of work to be done now and, yet, here she was, daring to be annoyed by him?_

_The guy whom Alex no longer considered a friend was wise enough to make a hasty exit. As the front door fell shut behind him, he sat down on the edge of the dresser. “I got a question for you. Was this a one-time thing or…are you in love with him and forgot to tell me?”_

_She pulled the robe further around her body and tied the belt. “It just happened.” She looked at something on the floor. Dust, maybe. Or a crumble. She didn’t look at him. “Does it matter? Honestly?”_

_“Well,” he said, taking a deep breath, “you broke my heart. I’d like to know if you did it for a fuck or for something more substantial.”_

_“If I broke your heart, you have a fucked up way of showing me that you care for me. ‘Cause I swear I thought you stopped loving me a long time ago.”_

_Alex got up as the words sank in. He’d been busy, alright. He’d admit that. But hadn’t he always come home to her? Hadn’t he been nice and generous? Hadn’t he held her hand? Kissed her lips?_

_“Where are you going?”_

_“Living room. The sight of this room is a little too much for me right now.” It ought to be understandable._

_Ten minutes later, she was fully dressed. A small bag was dropped next to his couch as she sat down on the edge of the table across from him. “For what it’s worth, I never meant to hurt you.”_

_“Job well done.”_

_“Come on, Alex! Are you really shocked we’ve run our course? I’m sorry for what I’ve done.”_

_She reached for his hand and when her slender fingers curled around his, he felt no spark. No familiarity. None of the things he used to feel. He pulled away from her._

_The front door opened. “Hey, Al, got a hand? This bloody box is heavy!”_

_She got up. “Jamie, could you give us a minute?”_

_“Not necessary.” Alex got up as well. “Just drop the box, Jamie.”_

_“Alex…I’d like you to understand.”_

_“I do.”_

_“No, you don’t!” She stepped closer and he stepped away. “I wouldn’t have done it if I had thought you still loved me. See…I’ve realized that I’ve fallen out of love with you a while ago. And I thought you had, too. I thought the only reason we were still together was us being used to being a couple. I still care for you, Alex. I just don’t love you anymore.”_

_“In that case, you should go.”_

_“If you want to talk—”_

_“No. Go.”_

_She nodded once. Grabbed her bag. And she made her way out of his door, past Jamie, who looked completely lost and confused. Once she was out of sight, Jamie closed the door behind her._

_“Al? Are you alright?”_

_“No.”_

**Present Day**

Alex sat in his seat by the window, on the plane, headphones on, listening to _Harry Styles._ That was the state of his heart at the moment. 

For some strange reason, the world loved fucking with him. It loved pulling the rug from beneath his feet and it loved laughing at him when he fell down and got hurt. 

His gaze, repeatedly, covertly, tiptoed across the aisle, towards the other side of the plane, where he could see the very top of Miles’ head. He was napping. He couldn’t get a full view since there were seats blocking his line of sight. Maybe it was a good thing. Maybe it was the world’s way of telling him not to look. What was the point of looking, anyway? When had looking at something or somebody ever made things better? Looking, seeing, watching – all of that had only ever brought forth more harm than joy. 

Why was he always the one who got blamed for everything? Why did Miles always, _always_ blame him? Miles was the only one who knew about his lack of new music. Therefore, by logical conclusion, he had to be the one who had said something to somebody. 

That somebody had then posted something on the internet. 

And then, afterward, a ratty magazine had run with the story of Alex Turner and his inability to get his notes up! 

His band had been told about it. Jamie had come to find him. And that had been the end of his earth-shattering moment with Miles. 

He liked him. Miles. Very much. Despite his hardest attempts not to. And not just as a friend. Which, truth to be told, scared the shit out of him! Because he was experiencing some serious hurt right now. And all they’d shared had been one single kiss! 

He liked him so much that he’d even been willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and hear him out if he chose to admit his mistake, his breaking of a promise. And if it had been an honest mistake, Alex would have forgiven him for it. 

Miles, though, refused to confess. 

And lying…that one Alex couldn’t forgive. 

Why didn’t Miles admit, though? Why didn’t he ever admit when he screwed up? His words still echoed in his ear. 

What same mistake had Alex made twice? Trusting him? 

Nick tapped his arm. 

Alex pulled one earbud out. “Huh?”

“You okay?” He kept his voice down. “The last two days – you seemed lost. If you need a friend, I’m a good listener.” 

“It’s alright. Thanks,” he said, assuring him, “but, really…just a little lost in thought lately.” 

“Why didn’t you tell us about the music thing?”

He faced away, gazed out of the window. “You play bass, Jamie plays guitar, Matt plays drums and I sing and write songs. Without songs, I got nothing to sing. And if I can’t come up with new songs, then what’s my place?”

“Without songs, we got nothing to play. We’re in this together, Alex.”

He knew that. Somewhere. In the back of his head. In the far back. But he still felt useless. Like he no longer knew how to do his job. For all the years that the band had played together, he’d always done his part. He’d always functioned. And now, he no longer did. As though his battery was broken. A piece of him had gone missing, down the road. He had tried to fix himself. He had tried to find inspiration and he had attempted new solutions. He’d bloody meditated and done fucking yoga, for Christ’s sake! But none of it had worked. 

“It takes an open heart to feel something.” 

Alex turned his head towards Nick, blinked, confused. “What?”

“Just saying. It’s not the worst thing in the world to let people in.”

He had let Miles in. A little, that was. Coincidentally, at the same time, he’d gotten a tiny bit of writing done. And what did he get in exchange for opening up?

He got hurt.

Again. 

“It’s not easy to find somebody to trust. I’m not as lucky as the rest of you.” All of his bandmates were married. Happily, so. 

“You and Miles have that in common,” chuckled Nick. 

“Why? Because he’s single, too?” 

Nick frowned. “He got burnt, too. Don’t you know? Happened around the same time you and _her_ broke up. They had dated for a while. She had used him to get famous, but Miles’ star never rose to the same level ours did. And when we did our first world tour and Miles remained stuck in Europe, she left him. She made a move on Jamie right in front of him. Should have seen Katie. Girl got claws!” He laughed. “Dangerous, that one!” 

Alex was speechless. He had no idea of any of that. “The leggy brunette he lived with for a bit?”

“Yep.” Nick shook his head. “A real bi— Well, you know what. Everyone after that had a term limit. A few weeks, a few months at most. And then? Goodbye! He doesn’t trust new people, either. But you’ll never find a more loyal friend!” 

_He trusted me._

Alex swallowed a thick lump as he put the earbud back in. _Harry Styles_ had run its’ course and he needed something more adequate to get lost in, something that matched his flummoxed thoughts.

_The Bridgeheads_ took over. 

Miles had trusted him. 

He’d given him the benefit of the doubt. 

And if Nick called him a loyal friend, then he was that. Nick wouldn’t toss these words around easily. 

Then, why had Miles betrayed his trust?

**_2015_ **

_Alex stood in the corner of the empty ballroom, unnoticed and hidden behind some cardboard cutout of some movie actor whom he’d never heard of. He wasn’t deliberately hiding. Then again, he was deliberately staying out of sight. Semantics._

_Miles sat on the floor of the large venue, next to an amp near the side of a little stage, the black and white 1957 Gretsch in his lap, strumming it. Every now and then he’d mutter some words. But none of them really fit. Alex knew, and he could tell that Miles knew as well._

_Taking a deep breath, Alex stepped into the room, steadily and calmly walked up to him and then, to his own surprise, sat down across from Miles._

_Looking up, startled, Miles frowned. “What do you want?”_

_Noting the hostility in his tone, Alex no longer doubted that something had happened between them. Something had made Miles go out and buy the Gretsch to piss him off. But what was it? What had he done?_

_“Nice guitar.”_

_“Yep.”_

_“Had my sight on it as well.”_

_“Yep,” Miles said. Again._

_He wasn’t even trying to deny it, then. Alex crossed his legs, got comfortable. “Always considered you the Fender/Gibson type.”_

_“This one held a special appeal.”_

_“It did?” He kept his eyes on him. “What appeal was that? My interest in it?”_

_Miles looked up, met his gaze._

_“I got the words to your song. Or, you got the notes to mine. Depending on how you want to phrase it. I considered asking you for your notes. But, maybe, I should just take ‘em. You take what you want. Why shouldn’t I do the same?”_

_“Go and do it. I dare you.”_

_“Oh, I do love a good dare.”_

_“I’m not in the mood for one of your games, Turner. Say what you want to say and leave me be.”_

_What?_

_Usually, Miles jumped at any chance to fight with him. And now, after he’d gone out and bought a guitar with the sole intention of starting a fight with him, he suddenly no longer cared for it?_

_Well, too bad. ‘Cause Alex cared for a fight!_

_“Will you be at the party tonight?”_

_“Would that have an impact on your decision to appear? Will it make you stay away? ‘Cause I’ll be there.”_

_“So will I,” snapped Alex. He got up, straightened his pants. “Why’d you buy it?”_

_Their eyes were still locked on each other. “You know why. I already told you.”_

_“To piss me off. For no reason at all?”_

_“I got plenty of reasons! Get fucking lost, will you? I really don’t want to fight right now!”_

_Alex didn’t move an inch._

_Miles got up, grabbed his guitar and walked away. Alex was fairly certain he’d heard him mutter a heartfelt ‘asshole’ on his way out._

**Present Day**

Alex stood side by side with Miles as they waited for their luggage to appear. It was awkward and tense and it made him even more twitchy than he already was. “One of my greatest fears is leaving the airport without my suitcase.” 

“I’m sure you can afford the loss of a few jeans.” 

Smiling bemusedly, Alex looked at Miles. “Some of those jeans hold great memories. One I wore when I met Beyoncé! Also, there’s a piece of underwear in there that I’ve only worn once. It’s red and—”

“Stop right there!” Miles spun away angrily. “You called me a liar! You don’t get to joke around right now! You don’t get to—” He turned back. Faced Alex. Hissed, “You don’t get to flirt!” 

“You think I don’t know that? Say that you’re sorry and we can try again,” pleaded Alex. “Apologize and—”

“I don’t know how to say it in a way that makes you understand. I. Did. Not. Say. A. Word. To. Anybody.” He rubbed his eyes with one hand. “And until you get that, I’d appreciate it,” he spoke, strained, “if you left me the fuck alone! Maybe it’s a joke to you. But it fucking hurts every time you accuse me of lying. So, if I ever meant even the slightest bit to you, do me that one favor. Go away.” 

Go away.

If Alex did that, then what? Miles wouldn’t come to him. Miles never came to him. He always walked away. He’d always done that. He’d never return! So, if Alex walked away, there would be no contact between them, then. “I can’t,” he whispered. 

Miles lowered his head, his shoulders fell. “Why?” His voice broke as he glanced at him. “This is torture, Alex. Why can’t you ever let go?”

“What’s the alternative?” He stepped closer. God, he was desperate for him! He longed for Miles’ hands, for his warmth, for his lips! “I don’t want this to end, Miles! We’re not done yet. We haven’t even begun yet! Why can’t you say that you’re sorry? I’ll forgive you! I just need to hear it!”

As always, Miles walked away. 

**_2015_ **

_Alex spotted the mic on stage and the guitar in the corner of it. One of the hotel’s musicians must have left it behind. The party was in full swing and as he made his way towards it, squeezing through throngs of strangers, his eyes landed on Miles._

_He sat near the stage, at the cocktail bar, in conversation with Jamie. Both looked serious and somber and it reassured Alex in his assumption that something was going on with Miles! But whatever it was, it didn’t change the fact that Miles had stolen his guitar for no apparent reason at all._

_And Alex was seething. Not only had it ruined what had promised to be a great day. It had also ruined what could have possibly become a great song._

_He reached the stage, grabbed the guitar and tapped the mic. “One, two. This thing on?” The world’s lamest joke. He knew._

_People turned their attention towards him._

_“Great party, huh? But this one could really use some live music. How about a new one? It’s not quite finished yet but maybe your feedback will help with that. Here goes nothing!”_

_As the first notes filled the air, Alex directed his gaze to Miles. He saw the unleashed fury, the rage, the anger. It spurred him on._

_“Color pictures of re-entry…”_

_“Stop it!” Miles jumped on stage. “Don’t you dare!”_

_“Voices calling down the hall…”_

_Grabbing the guitar and pulling it out of Alex’s hand, Miles was stopped by Jamie and Matt who appeared behind him out of nowhere._

_Alex stopped singing. Began smirking. “A theft for a theft.”_

_“You rotten little piece of shit! How is it that you have any friends at all, huh?”_

_The smirk fell from his lips. Alex ground his teeth. “Maybe it’s because I don’t steal from the ones that matter to me!”_

_“You don’t matter to me, Turner!”_

_“Shocking! Nobody matters to you! You go through friends and lovers as though they are disposable paper towels. I’m actually glad that you hate me. That must be the deepest emotion in all of your stone-cold heart!”_

_“At least I have a heart! What’s it that you got there? A picture of yourself? You’re the world's greatest asshole in existence and if you dropped dead today, you’d be doing the rest of us a favor!”_

_“Is that the best you can do?” Alex was pulsating with fury. “A lousy comment about me dropping dead? No wonder you’re stuck on the outskirts of success!”_

_“Alex, shut the fuck up,” snapped Jamie from the side._

_But he couldn’t. “You’re pathetic, you know that? You really went and bought a guitar to piss me off? You spent all of your hard-earned money to get back at me? What a bad investment that was, Kane. I could buy a dozen guitars on the spot. You really think you got to me?”_

_“I know I did,” sneered Miles. “I got to you so good that you went on stage and made a fucking idiot out of yourself! Go ahead and buy yourself a million guitars. I got the one you want. All the money in the world won’t change that! But that’s a lesson you still have to learn, right?”_

_“Meaning what,” hissed Alex._

_“I’m not the lonely one. You are. You have to look into the mirror every day and face the fact that you’re so fucking lonely that you rather embrace your inner asshole than embrace nothing and nobody at all! You’re so fucking lonely that you need me to fight with you! ‘Cause nobody else cares enough about you to give a damn!”_

_Alex balled his hands into hard fists as he got into Miles’ face. Up close, he could see every little detail. Every twitch. Every tic. Every furious line. He felt a rush of something. “And what do you see in the mirror? Huh? You see failure. At least I got success!”_

_Miles gritted his teeth as he got closer. “Fucking choke on it!”_

_“Enough,” bit Matt as he grabbed Alex’s arms and hauled him off stage._

_Jamie grabbed Miles and did the same, only in a different direction._

_“Are you fucking stupid?” Matt shoved him onto a barstool and shook his shoulders. “Have you lost it? That’s some fucking bad shit you just said there!”_

_Alex blinked. He’d been so caught up in the argument that he barely remembered half of what he’d said. But he recalled every syllable that Miles had thrown at him. “Did you hear what he said? Why are you yelling at me? You’re my friend. Why are you calling me stupid? He screwed up. He fucked up!” Alex got up, walked around the bar and ignored the stunned expression of the barkeeper when he grabbed the bottle of Whiskey straight from the bar and drank from it. “He’s the one you should be yelling at! Not me. Not your friend!” Taking the bottle with him, Alex headed for the exit._

_Half an hour later, completely, utterly drunk and barely able to stand straight, Alex flagged down a cab._

_A wobbly figure appeared next to him. “Thanks, mate. Really need a cab!”_

_Was bloody everyone out for a fight tonight? “That’s my cab!”_

_The guy got in first._

_“Bloody asshole!” Alex slipped inside after him. “My cab,” he mumbled. He looked at the guy. Then cursed. “You? Fuck.”_

_Miles squinted. “Turner?” His irritation made room for great annoyance. “Oh great. Do me a favor and keep your mouth shut. I’m all yelled out.”_

_“Makes two of us, you prick!” He crossed his arms, clutched the bottle and stared out front._

_“Where to?” asked the cab driver._

_“Home,” snapped Miles._

_“Where is home, dumbass?”_

_Alex rolled his eyes. “Uh, where he lives?!” He turned towards Miles. “Not the smartest guy, huh?”_

_“Dumb people everywhere tonight,” agreed Miles._

_It took Alex a second, but his words landed eventually. “You think I’m dumb?”_

_The cab driver groaned. “You’re both idiots. Address. Street. Zip Code. Anything. Now!”_

_“Oh. Address!” Miles gave him his address._

_Alex shifted, to look fully at Miles. “I’m not dumb.” He was mighty drunk. But not dumb. Though, tonight, some people might argue that! But, as the memory of their fight took hold in his head, he put in some serious effort to regain some sense in his head, “Nor am I lonely.”_

_Something flashed in Miles’ eyes. Was it regret? Remorse? Or just a streetlight?_

_“I’m no failure,” stated Miles. The viciousness from earlier had disappeared. The hurt remained._

_Fuck!_

_He’d said that? A sudden bout of guilt befell him. “No, you’re not,” agreed Alex. What a horrible thing to say. “I should apologize for that.”_

_“There’s no should about it,” pointed Miles out, sternly._

_Alex looked away. “Sorry.”_

_Miles snorted. “Well said.”_

_“You said your own share of shitty things!”_

_For a while, the accusation hang in the air. Until, a block or two later, Miles spoke up. “Fine. I’d like to apologize for calling you all sorts of things. I’d be more specific, but I don’t really remember what I said.”_

_A sudden chuckle slipped from Alex’s throat. “Makes two of us.” He held up the almost finished bottle of Whiskey. “Drink?”_

_“Thanks!” Miles took a swig. “Good one.”_

_“I think I stole it.”_

_At that, Miles succumbed to laughter. “We are thieves, are we not?” After a while he shifted as well, to face Alex. “I like your lyrics. One day, I'd like to hear the rest of 'em.”_

_“I like your notes.” He took hold of the Whiskey bottle and finished the last of it off. “Sometimes,” whispered Alex, “I think I am lonely.”_

_“Sometimes,” confessed Miles, quietly, “I think I am a failure.”_

_They held each other’s gaze for a long while. Until, eventually, the cab driver arrived at Miles’ place._

_Alex looked away, out, to the street. “Let’s not mention those things again. Ever.”_

_“Agreed.”_

**Present Day**

Alex rested by the hotel pool, drink in hand, lounging, and gazing at the sky. He let his head roll to the side, grinned, when he saw Nick rubbing his stomach. “Man, you ate too much!” 

“I know. It was the best buffet ever, though.” Nick faced Alex. “I saw you and Miles argue at the airport. You should cut him some slack. I know there’s a whole lot of history between the two of you, but deep down, he kind of got your back. Maybe, if you take a first step towards him, he’ll find it easier to open up to you?”

Sighing heavily, Alex looked back up into the sky. Once again, it was assumed that Alex was the guilty party and should be the one making the first step. He so very used to it by now. “Thanks for the tip, mate. Miles and I – it’s complicated. We’ll figure it out. We won’t ruin this tour, I promise. I want to have fun as well. We’ll cut the drama and the fighting and whatever.” They’d manage. Somehow. Then something registered with him. “What do you mean, he always had my back?”

“Shit!” Nick winced. “Oh…fuck, whatever. I mean, you’re over her, right?” 

Alex put the drink away as he sat up, awake and attentive as much as the midnight hour allowed it. “Nick? Tell me now.” 

“A few years back, a week before the big breakup happened, Miles and I went out for drinks. We went to this club and ran into her. Well, not exactly. We saw her there. She was making out with somebody else. Miles gave her hell for that!” 

“What?” Alex sat in shock. “He never mentioned that.” Not once, in all the years since. And there had been plenty of opportunity to let him know. He could have used it to hurt him. To strike him where it would leave scars.

“And then, when he found out that she had cheated on you with that asshole?”

Alex’s eyes opened wide. “Miles knows about that? Wait, you know that? How?” He'd never told anyone.

“The guy…he came to Miles, bragged about doing your girl. He must have thought Miles would applaud him for it or something. Should have seen Miles. He almost knocked him out. Jamie and I were watching in awe!”

“Nick?” Alex swallowed hard. He felt himself growing hot and cold at the same time as something strikingly bad occurred to him. “How do you suppose that story got out? You know, me not having new songs?”

“I don’t like accusing people of shit, but my guess is on your ex. I mean the headline… _getting your notes up_? There’s a certain shade to it.”

“She wouldn’t know. She…” Alex froze. Hadn’t Miles mentioned something about her a few weeks ago? Something about killing his mojo? And she had been at his place often enough. He might not have told her, but she had witnessed him struggling often enough.

He felt queasy, all of sudden. “Not Miles, then?”

“Miles?” Nick laughed hard. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Oh God.

Oh no!

“You’re okay?”

“No,” said Alex. He all but jumped up. “I have to go! I have to fix something!” 

.

.

**Spoiler Chapter 12:**

#

Miles began to shiver. Damn this traitorous body of his! “What are you doing?” 

“I’m apologizing.” Alex leaned closer; his hands ventured up. His fingers brushed his chest. 

Breathing became too hard for Miles. He gasped irregularly. 

“I trust you!” 

He…what? 

Oh, screw it! 

#

“Fuck.” 

“We’ll get to that,” assured Alex.

#


	12. When The Sun Sets

Chapter 12 

Miles tossed and turned but sleep wouldn’t come to him. He had tried everything. Warm milk. Cigarettes. Alcohol. He’d watched cartoons. He’d listened to his favorite tunes. Hell, he’d even listened to the entire first chapter of James Joyce’s _Ulysses_ , which he owned as an audio book for exactly this scenario! But if that couldn’t put him out, nothing could! 

“Fucking hell,” he grumbled as he gave up on trying and left the bed instead. Grabbing his acoustic, his old acoustic – refusing to play the pretty vintage one that Alex had paid for and exchanged with him as an act of friendship – he sat down on the floor and began strumming. 

All that turmoil with Alex had one good side effect, at least. It was bloody inspiring. Heartbreak had that effect on him, and it had been a while since he’d felt something akin to it. 

Only, just as he’d gotten into focus and worked on a chord variation, an insistent drumming ripped his attention away. 

Bloody hell! 

“Who is it?!” Checking the time, he groaned. One a.m.? “That better be important!” 

Nobody answered. More knocking. 

“Yes, damnit! Who is it?” Wearing pajama bottoms and nothing else, whomever decided to interrupt him at this hour of the night would have to accept his state of undress. He tore the door open and tilted his head in disbelief. “You got to be kidding me!” 

Alex stood there, fist raised mid-air, ready to knock again. His eyes were wide and startled and there was clearly something that he wanted to say. Miles saw it in the way his lips had set and were ready to deliver, but he stood in silence. Unmoving. 

If he had come for more accusations, Miles would toss the door right back into his face. He got impatient. “ _You_ knocked on _my_ door! What is it?!” 

Alex unfroze. He took a step towards him, and Miles immediately took one back. “Alex?” His voice became unsteady. A warning. They were too close. He couldn’t function properly. 

“I messed up!” Alex took another step towards him as he pressed his hands to Miles’ stomach. 

Damnit, he should have put on a shirt. Having Alex touch his bare skin with his bare hands was just too much. His eyes began to flutter and he gulped hard. They were arguing. They were fighting. He shouldn't be reacting to his touch like that! 

“I was wrong.” Another step. 

Miles began to shiver. Damn this traitorous body of his! “What are you doing?” 

“I’m apologizing.” Alex leaned closer; his hands ventured up. 

His fingers brushed his chest. 

Breathing became too hard for Miles. He gasped irregularly. 

“I trust you!” 

He…what? 

Oh, screw it! 

Miles grabbed Alex’s face and kissed him so hard that his lips hurt. But he couldn’t stop. And neither could Alex. It was a frantic moment of groping and moaning and hungry tongues dancing a wicked waltz. It was dirty and wild and ravenous and still, Miles felt unable to get close enough to him. No matter how hard they went for it, how deeply they thrust their tongues into each other’s mouths, he needed more. So much more! 

He was done fighting it. He wanted him. Period. No questions, no hesitation, no holding back. He wanted him like he’d never wanted anyone or anything in his life before and if Alex was here and willing – hell, even apologizing! – then how could he possibly be expected to resist? 

Alex swiveled them around, flattened him to the door and grabbed Miles’ ass hard. 

Rolling his head back, Miles let out a throaty groan. He rubbed himself against his leg, which was torturously wedged between his own ones. Dry-humping a thigh. He ought to laugh at that! But when Alex pressed his leg against him some more, deliberately, he grunted instead. 

He let his own hands wander, raring, grabbing everything in reach. Their lips were insatiable, and their cocks grew harder with each passing moan. 

Miles flipped them around. He hovered in front of Alex, a hair’s breadth of distance between their lips. “Are you sure you want this?” If not, they needed to stop right now. He'd die if they didn't do something soon! 

Alex’s swollen lips widened into a fierce grin as he grabbed Miles’ hand and brought it to his growing erection. “Still doubting?” 

Miles squeezed. It felt strange for a moment, until it stopped doing so and felt arousing, instead. Adventurous. New. Exciting. And then it began to feel insufficient. It felt like the first taste of something and Miles suddenly hungered for more. 

Alex placed his hands against Miles’ chest once again. And shoved him. Unceremoniously. Back. Towards the couch. 

Miles’ heart beat insanely fast. The look of craving on Alex’s beautiful face made him whimper in need. 

Alex roughed his own shirt over his head and tossed it away. He undid his belt. Unsnapped his jeans. Lowered the zipper. And suddenly he was naked. Butt naked, hard and so fucking hot that Miles' mouth dropped open. His lids began to flutter close as his desire began to overpower him. “Fuck.” 

“We’ll get to that,” assured Alex in that smug way that Miles found so bloody sexy. Then he was kissing him again. Relentlessly. Thoroughly. Somehow, between stealing the breath from his lungs and making his body throb with need, Alex had managed to shove Miles’ pants down. For a brief second he let go and appreciated the view. “No underwear? I like that!” 

In no time, though, Miles' hands were tangled in the strands of Alex's hair as the latter took his damn time to leave kisses all over him. Hands roamed everywhere. Fingertips left invisible marks where they seared his skin. He felt himself tilted backward, over the back of the couch as Alex turned his entire attention towards Miles' very sensitive and, to his own surprise, strikingly erogenous nipples and feasted first on one, then on the other, leaving him to become a panting mess. 

He was on the verge of exploding before Alex's hand even got this erection. But when it finally circled around him, when he took a hold of him and moaned into his mouth, Miles shuddered uncontrollably. 

“Never touched another man's dick before,” whispered Alex. His voice was hoarse and abundant with amazement and enough by itself to make Miles lose it completely. The tip of Alex's tongue teased that tiny spot right below his earlobe. “Like how it feels. How thick you are. How big and hard.” 

Miles was sure he was drawing blood as he dug his nails into Alex's back. “Yes, babe!” He lost his vision. Everything became blurry as Alex began to stroke him. 

“Do you like that? Am I doing it right?” There was an obscenity in his voice that mixed with such an innocence that Miles didn't know whether to hug him or gape at his words. 

He kissed him instead. Languid. Slow. Deep. “Feels fucking perfect!” 

Miles blinked when Alex pressed a condom into his hand. “Would you like to cum in my hand or in my ass?” 

Gape. Definitely gape. 

No innocence there! 

“I'd like my own taste first,” croaked Miles as he dropped the condom onto the couch and spun them around. His hands grabbed his Alex's waist, held him in place as he aligned their erections, thrusting ever so slowly against him. His lips kissed a wet path down his throat, pausing at times to nip and tease a little. He utterly enjoyed the breathless sounds that he wrung from Alex's mouth. 

His teeth scraped along his collar bone. Alex shivered vibrantly. He looked deeply into his pitch-black eyes and smirked devilishly. “Would it be okay,” he wondered, whispering coyly into his ear, “if I sucked your cock?” 

Alex gasped, out of breath and dazed. “Please do!” 

And Miles did. Dropping to his knees, he wrapped his fingers around Alex's long shaft and just looked as he moved his hand down to the base as slow as he could. He'd never taken a close up look at an erected penis before. Who would have guessed it could look so fucking appealing! He wetted his lips, smiled approvingly, and chuckled slightly when he heard Alex's frustrated grumbles. He rewarded him with a long lick up the underside of his dick. 

Alex responded with garbled letters as he struggled for air. 

He licked him again. It felt odd for a moment. Unfamiliar. But in the nick of time, it changed. It became fun. Alex's sounds of appreciation made it addictive. He sucked him inside, getting used to the size and texture. 

Fucking delicious, that's what Alex's cock was! Miles hummed around his flesh, moved faster, he began to find a rhythm. Until he felt Alex's fingers tearing at his hair. 

“Let go or I'll blow!” 

He did with a pop. Leaned up. Went for another wild kiss. Alex wrapped his arms around him, hurtled him as close as possible and pulled him along as he dropped rearward over the couches' back. They landed on top of it, tangled, chuckling, kissing, rubbing, all at once. 

“Have me,” craved Alex, “have me now!” He rolled over on his stomach. 

Miles had never seen a more seducing sight! Crawling on top of him, he let his lips kiss a tender path down the line of his spine. When he reached the end of it, he gave his cheeks a good squeeze and grinned when he was unable to deny himself a little bite. 

Alex jolted beneath him. “Fucking tease!” 

“You like it,” Miles stated smugly. He did it again and the moan that escaped Alex's lips was all the confirmation he needed. 

He grabbed his own cock and gave himself a good stroke before bringing himself to rest against Alex's crack. His lips kissed his nape sweetly. “Tell me what you want me to do.” 

Arching against him, Alex bit his lip. “Do it. Take me.” 

Taking his time, Miles moved his now condom-covered tip to his puckered hole and gave it a gentle nudge. Then again. Teasing him some more. Then he placed his thumb against it and slipped it inside. “Tell me when to stop.” He kept kissing his nape. Kept nuzzling the side of his neck. 

“More,” whispered Alex. 

Miles slipped his whole thumb inside. He moved in and out, slow and carefully. 

Alex squirmed. Wiggled. “More.” 

Pulling his thumb out, he replaced it with his index and middle finger. 

“God, fucking shit! Yes!” 

“More?” 

“All,” begged Alex. “Do it now!” 

Miles withdrew his fingers and positioned himself before pushing carefully inside. 

A garbled groan filled the heady silence. Miles pushed deeper. Alex raised his behind. 

“Miles…fuck, yes!” 

Alex fisted both hands into the armrest of the couch, and Miles brought his own hand there, entwined his fingers with those of him and they moaned in unison when he slipped all the way inside of him. 

They said there was a difference between sex and sex, but until tonight, Miles had never really understood it. Sure, there was a different feel to it when you cared for the one you were with, or even loved the one, but that wasn't what made sinking into Alex such a groundbreaking experience. 

Being with Alex was like being with the one you were meant to be with. As though they were made for each other. Everything aligned perfectly. Every touch landed. Every kiss and every breath echoed perfectly. 

“You feel fucking insane!” Miles bit into Alex's shoulder as his pace became rapid. “Incredible!” Alex strained to meet Miles' eyes and they shared a quick, filthy kiss. “You're fucking perfect!” Miles kept moving his hips faster, harder. He raised Alex's ass up and moved his arm around him, taking a hold of his cock again. Stroking it. 

“Yes,” called Alex, sweaty and breathless. “Fuck me hard!” 

His damp forehead pressed against Alex's nape, his lips kissed every bit of skin they could reach. There was no elegance to what they were doing. Just raw and savage fucking. In and out. In and out. Miles squeezed Alex's balls and in return, Alex shivered vehemently. He let go of the arm rest and leaned up, wrapped up tightly by Miles' free arm and they moved in perfect sync even as Miles' frantic thrusts became jerky and desperate. 

“Fuck! YES!” Alex growled loud as Miles exploded inside of him. He came as well. His grunts got louder. “FUCK…” 

\- 

Miles sat on the floor of his hotel room, butt naked, smiling happily. His head rested against the couch behind him, on which Alex was sprawled out, equally naked. 

“The world needs better words to describe sex,” mused Miles, drinking from the bottle of beer in his hand as he grinned at Alex, who took a drag from his cigarette. “Everything I think of fails to do it properly.” 

A lazy smile lingered on Alex's lips. “Earth-shattering?” 

“What a lame expression!” 

They shared a laugh. The kind one laughed when one was utterly, completely satisfied and everything seemed funny and good and perfect. 

After a few moments of peaceful silence, Miles closed his eyes and sighed contently. Alex moved on the couch. He felt the motions. Then an arm curled around his shoulders and a hot pair of lips began to kiss his cheek. “There's something we have to talk about.” 

Miles frowned at the somber tones of Alex's voice. “What?” 

Alex placed another kiss against his cheek. He swallowed hard and retreated an inch, to meet Miles' eyes. “I don't want to lose you as my friend. This friendship that we have…it has become to mean a great deal to me.” 

Miles shifted, to fully look at Alex. “It means a lot to me, too.” 

A little smile grazed Alex's face, but it was vague and insecure. “And being with you…” He nibbled on the corner of his lip as he visibly fought a grin. “I quite like that, too.” 

Miles didn't fight his grin. “So do I.” He leaned in for a quick kiss. 

Alex pulled back. “I can't fall in love with you.” 

Silence. 

“I fear that falling in love might break me beyond repair.” He was speaking quietly, almost inaudibly. “It's a very unstable emotion. It's untrustworthy and…I don't like it. That one.” 

Miles wasn't sure how to respond to that. He certainly felt something for Alex. He wasn't sure if he'd call it love, but there was affection. He more than enjoyed spending time with him. And, also, he wasn't aware of the fact that love followed rules. In his experience, it was a nasty fucker who never did as it was told! He wasn't all that fond of it, either. 

“What does that mean for you and me?” he asked. 

“It means we need to set some rules.” 

“Like what?” 

“None of those couple-things. Like, you know, holding hands and whispering sweet nonsense. No stray kisses and gentle touches.” As he said it, Alex's index finger drew a lazy line down the curve of Miles' neck, wildly distracting him. “No snuggling and cuddling. No sleeping over. Never that.” 

“You don't like waking up to sex?” Miles rather enjoyed that. So, not doing it would be a tough one to follow. 

Alex's finger trailed along his shoulder, up and down. “I don't like sleeping next to somebody.” 

Miles reached for Alex's hand and held onto it. All that light, little touching was making his head dizzy! “Like, in general?” he asked curiously. “I mean, you had a girlfriend for a few months. Are you telling me she never stayed the night?” 

“A few times,” he admitted. “But we can't do that. Never.” 

“Why?” It seemed unfair to him. 

Alex looked away, hand still in Miles', admitting, “You're not her. You’re infinitely much more dangerous than she ever was.” 

And just like that, Miles knew. This would never work out. He should pull the plug before their hearts would get hurt and they would get hurt. There was no doubt about it. Only, as he absentmindedly linked his fingers with Alex's, breaking the rules in the very moment they were placing them, he also realized that he wasn't strong enough to end it before it really began. Not now, anyway. Not when he wanted nothing more than, well, Alex. 

“And we have to keep this to ourselves.” Alex leaned up. Once again, he searched Miles' gaze. “I don't want you to think that I care about people's opinion. I absolutely don't. But you know my band. If they find out, we'd never, never be left to ourselves.” 

That, Miles agreed with. “No argument there!” He let all of it sink in. “To sum it up,” he said, pulling on Alex's hand to bring him closer, “we're friends by day. No funny business when the sun is up.” 

“But,” continued Alex, scooting closer towards Miles, “the second darkness falls, our distance dissolves as well. We’ll be lovers by night.” 

Miles tugged him nearer, smiling roguishly. “What if, hypothetically speaking, we're on the verge of sunrise and still in the midst of it.” A sly look danced on his face. “Will you slip away and leave me unsatisfied?” 

Alex shook his head, smiling in a manner that made Miles forget how to breathe. “I'll never leave you unsatisfied. That's a promise.” 

“And…” Another tug on his arm. “What if one time isn't enough? Do we allow for second rounds? Or must we part after a single orgasm?” 

“I'm yours for as often as you want me,” purred Alex, directly into Miles' ear, “Speaking of which…” 

“Now?” 

“Mmh.” Alex nibbled on Miles' earlobe. “Now.” 

Miles tugged Alex's arm a final time and he dropped off the couch, directly into his lap. Both laughed. “Ooh, Babe, are you hurt?” 

“Babe?” Alex smiled approvingly. “I like that.” 

“Yeah?” He leaned down, captured his lips in a thoroughly, inappropriately loving and soft kiss and he assumed he was possibly breaking yet another rule. But Alex was kissing him back. So where was the harm, right? 

“Remember when you told me you want to take my ass and want me to take yours?” Alex got off the floor swiftly as he held out his hand for him. 

Miles took it. 

“I want your ass now.” 

A feverish heat spread all over Miles' skin. Allowing Alex to pull him towards the bed, Miles sank down on it as Alex climbed on top of him. “Have it, then. Have all of me.” 

\- 

A loud, thunderous knocking blared through the silence of Miles' hotel room and he roared a vile curse as he crawled deeper underneath the covers. 

He'd barely gotten any sleep last night. Not that he minded that part, since he'd done plenty of other greatly satisfying things instead. Alex had definitely kept his promise! A sleepy grin flew to his lips and he curled his arm around his pillow, breathing in his lover's lingering scent. 

The knocking continued. 

He kicked the covers away. “Bloody asshole knocking on my door. It's not even nine yet…” By the time he pulled the door open, he was still griping. “What is it?” he roared. 

“Whoa,” shot Alex, taking a step back. “Easy, tiger!” 

“You?” Miles blinked. Confused. 

“Ouch.” He mocked a sniffle. Wiped away an invisible tear. “Is that how you greet a friend?” 

“You must have gotten less sleep than I have. How are you this perky? This… _awake_?” Disgust dripped from his words. “How?” 

“Coffee. Lots of it.” His arm extended, a coffee-to-go clutched in his hand. “Got one for you. Um…one thing, though.” Alex averted his eyes and scratched his nape as he dragged his teeth along his lower lip, wildly distracting Miles. “Could you put on pants?” 

Miles looked down at himself. He was naked. Completely. “Fuck!” He walked back into his room, grabbed the terry robe and put it on. “Shit! Thank God that was you!” 

“Yes,” laughed Alex, leaning against the now closed door. “What's wrong, Miles?” Humor sparkled everywhere on his face. “Hard night? You seem a little out of it this morning.” 

“Funny. Ha. Ha.” 

“You're not a morning person. I'll make a note of it.” 

Alex remained against the door when Miles stepped into his personal space, to pluck the coffee from his hand. His face lingered mere inches from his. 

“Sex would help.” 

A grin flew to Alex's lips. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, is that how you talk to a friend?” 

Miles remained in his position. “Close your eyes and imagine it's midnight. I swear I'll make it worth your while.” 

Alex leaned the tiniest, infinitesimal bit closer, enjoying himself, clearly. “When I called you dangerous, I had no idea how inadequate that term would be. You're a bloody menace.” His eyes fluttered for half a second. 

Miles placed the quickest kiss on his lips before retreating entirely. 

“Hey! You broke the rule,” complained Alex. 

Miles shrugged. “You woke me up. Tit for tat.” 

He snickered at that. “So, if I show up again this early…” 

“Here's a rule to add to our list. No waking me up before ten unless it's for sex.” 

“Duly noted.” 

Miles wandered around the room, slightly lost. He noticed Alex still leaning against the door, arms crossed, just watching him. “Why are you here anyway?” 

“I thought you might like to join us on a little sightseeing excursion. Matt's playing tour guide, which promises to be hilarious!” 

Miles hesitated. “On foot?” 

Alex snorted. “Jesus Christ, I really wore you out last night, huh?” 

“Don't look so smug!” 

“Can't help it. Feeling flattered right now.” He stuck out his tongue. 

Miles rolled his eyes, fighting the urge to laugh. “Give me ten minutes. I'll be there.” 

“Meet us in the lobby.” 

Miles grabbed a pair of briefs from his suitcase and reached for the robe's belt. Alex had yet to leave. 

“Either you join me in the shower or you get out. There's no in-between. Being honest here.” 

Alex remained in place for a hot minute, and Miles was tempted to walk over to him and get him when, at long last, Alex grabbed the door's handle. But not before blowing him a cocky air kiss. “Wouldn't want to wear you out entirely.” 

As the door closed behind him, Miles let out a loud growl. How the hell was he supposed to survive spending the day with Alex? How was he supposed to keep his hungry lips to himself and not ravish him in the first dark corner they'd pass? 

He pulled out his phone and googled sunset dates. The sun wouldn't disappear until well past eight. Miles lowered his head and trodded towards the shower. This was going to be a long day! 

.

.

** Spoiler Chapter 13: **

#

“I’m arrogant.” 

“You’re insecure.” 

Alex froze. “Nobody has ever accused me of that before.” He sat up, put Miles’ hand away. “And it’s not exactly a compliment.” He got off the bed and reached for his pants. 

#


	13. A Dangerous One

_Note: Thanks for all the love and feedback! I love you and I appreciate it all very much. Also, for the sake of this story, let's assume that some AM songs have not yet been written and are being written as the story progresses. Enjoy the new chapter. :)_

**Chapter 13**

“It's bloody hot outside!” Alex used the folded map in his hand to fan himself. The temperature was inhuman. And watching Miles wearing a fucking plain white shirt, which clung to his body like a damn wet suit, didn't help either. “We should find a cooler place. A church or something. Aren't those usually chilly on the inside?”

“It's not that bad,” remarked Matt, finishing off his water.

They were climbing some fiercely steep steps to get to some over-frequented tourist attraction and Alex wondered why anyone would want to do that. He turned to look at his drummer and snorted. “You're disgustingly sweaty and telling me it's not that bad?”

“I don't mind being sweaty.”

“Good for you.” Alex minded being sweaty very much. At least, he minded it right now. On stage, it was part of the deal. During sex, there was a certain appeal to it. Out in the open, continuously endangered to be caught by fans who loved to take pictures with him, he minded it very much. He preferred looking _not_ sweaty in pictures.

He also preferred Miles not being sweaty, for it was an awfully distracting sight.

Miles, cranky though he might have been earlier in the morning, didn't seem to mind the brutal heat at all. Wedged between Nick and Jamie, constantly laughing, he appeared to have the time of his life.

Good for him!

Seriously!

Alex blew out a hot breath. “Be fucking honest, Matt! You hate this as much as I do! You and I don't like steps. We like escalators. And elevators.”

“And cold drinks.”

“Thank you!”

“Hey guys,” Matt called out.

Nick, Jamie, and Miles stopped walking and turned around. “What?”

“Let's stop for lunch.”

“Drinks,” stressed Alex. “Lunch and _drinks_.” The latter part was what mattered most. Ice cubes. Plenty of ice cubes. That's what he wanted right now. He could be forgiving about liquor. He’d even settle for plain water. But the ice cubes were non-negotiable.

Ten minutes later, they were all comfortably settled in a lofty booth in some upscale restaurant. It had a fierce A/C, which delighted Alex, who'd promptly taken the seat nearest to it. “Tab is on me. Splurge big, guys,” he announced, reaching for the menu.

“Somebody is in a good mood today.” Jamie grabbed a menu as well. “Slept well, huh?”

Miles coughed violently. Alex, meanwhile, hoped that he was sunburned enough to cover up his own blushing cheeks. “You okay, there?” He tried his hardest to play things cool.

Nodding, Miles waved him off. “Fine.”

Matt glanced sideways at Miles. Then his eyes came to a rest on Alex. “You two talk or something? No hostile behavior today. No arguments. Is the heat wearing you out?”

Miles wasn't sunburnt. And he was blushing. Alex could see it clearly.

“Whatever it is,” interjected Nick, addressing Matt with a firm, almost warning look that piqued Alex’s interest a little bit, “it's a nice change. Let's not push our luck by searching for the cause. Should we make plans for tonight? Drinks? Dinner? Some club? There are a few bands in town that play tonight.”

“I'm in the mood for a concert. Nice to watch somebody else work for once,” said Jamie. “But we have to do some shopping as well. I promised Katie a handbag. She was very specific about it. Sent me a picture and all that.”

“Oh? Where do you have to do the shopping,” asked Alex.

“Hermés.”

“Wow. Fancy.” Miles grinned. “Did you mess up or something?”

“Forgot our anniversary. Messed up the dates by a month.”

“Ohh, bad.” Matt laughed. “Better make it two handbags!”

“Better add some shoes as well,” suggested Nick.

As the chatter continued, Alex felt his heat-induced tension from earlier slip away. He was actually having a good time with his band and with Miles. They were laughing, having fun, enjoying each other's company. And no fights were on the horizon.

It was, indeed, a nice change. And it had certainly been a while since things had been easy and good.

The waiter arrived to take their orders and once everything was written down, Miles excused himself.

A moment later, Alex got up as well. “Just going for a quick smoke. Be right back.”

For once, he couldn't care less about a cigarette. Making a hasty way to the back of the restaurant, he saw Miles coming out of the men’s room. Alex glanced over his shoulder, saw nobody, and went straight for him. “Back,” he ordered, both hands pressing against Miles' chest, making him stumble backward. “Hurry! Back! This way.” He maneuvered them into a hidden little spot behind a bushy plant.

“Alex!” Miles chuckled, trying to get Alex to let go. “We're in public! Your band is out there. It's bloody noon! What about your rules?”

Alex was relentless. “It's midnight somewhere! I need a kiss. Just one little kiss!” Where was the harm in that, right?

Last night had left him desperate for Miles. He'd never been kissed like that before. Never been touched like that. Never been fucked like that.

Well, technically, he himself had never been fucked at all before, but he had a hunch that they had done some exceptionally fine fucking last night. Some that ranked far, _far_ above the average kind of fucking.

And he wanted more!

He wanted to drown in Miles.

He wanted to be swallowed by him, literally and figuratively.

He wanted to feast on his lips, get high on his sinful hands and melt underneath his wicked tongue. He wanted to ride hard and be fucked into oblivion!

He held his shoulders in place as he leaned in, teasingly licking along the inside of Miles' upper lip, supplying a taste of what he had in mind, hoping he wanted it just as much. “Do you grant me permission?” It wasn’t lost on him that this was the second time he’d asked him first before going for the kiss. But Miles met his eyes with a look full of lust and all thoughts slipped from his mind.

“Fuck, yes!”

Alex kissed him. Filthy. Wet. As though he were starving and Miles was his salvation. But it didn’t last for long. Just as he was settling into it, adjusting into the perfect position, finding the ideal angle, a pair of firm hands pushed back against his shoulders.

“Stop it,” begged Miles, turning his head away. “We have to get out there. They'll be wondering where we are!”

“I've barely begun to kiss you,” he complained.

“You can't continue,” croaked Miles. “Our lips will be red. And if you kiss my neck, you'll leave a mark!”

“I really want to leave a mark,” confessed Alex on a breathless whisper. So, he went right at it. But just as his lips brushed Miles’ neck, Alex realized what he was doing. He puased, blinked. Where the hell did all this unstoppable need come from? When had he become so possessive that he longed to leave hickeys? As he leaned back, assessing this moment, he was overcome with remorse.

 _Shit_!

Hardly a day into their affair and here he was, blazing past every single rule he'd set in place himself. And he'd set them all for a specific reason, hadn't he? To keep everything in order. To make sure they wouldn’t burn out of control. To ensure that nobody, especially not his heart, would get hurt.

Miles reached up, bringing his hand to Alex’s cheek. His expression was soft and covered in the sort of tender concern that made Alex uncomfortable. “Talk to me.”

Alex stepped away from him, out of his reach. “You're right. No more breaking the rules!” He forced himself to smile reassuringly, despite feeling somewhat out of depth. “You go back. I’ll join you soon.” He really needed that smoke now, after all.

“What's happening right now? Tell me.”

He'd screwed up. That's what had happened. And if Miles didn't leave, he feared he was about to do it again. “It’s alright. Just…you have a point. It’s not night. It’s day. Our time hasn’t come, yet.”

Miles was unsatisfied with his answer. Alex could tell. And he really couldn’t blame him. First, he’d led him on and then he’d pulled the breaks hard. But – and he was grateful for that – Miles didn’t press him any further. Instead, he let go and nodded. “Okay. I’ll go back then. See you in a minute?”

Alex nodded as well. “In a minute.”

It took him five minutes to get himself ready to return to the table. When he did, though, he cracked a funny joke about tourists and made up a convincing lie about having been caught by a fan who wanted a picture, to excuse his absence.

None of his band members had noticed anything. Of that, he was sure. Miles, on the other hand, made a slightly bigger effort to appear as if nothing had happened. And, for a second, it worried Alex that he could read him so easily after such a short period of time.

But they were friends, now, were they not? Despite becoming so much more at night? A good friendship was like that. A good friendship included being able to read your friend’s face whenever there were things to be read in it.

It was all part of a good _friendship_. Nothing more.

“Alex?”

“Huh?” He really ought to pay attention! “What’s that? I’m sorry.”

Nick gave him the strangest look. “Lost in thought?”

“Something like that. What did you ask?”

“Your food has arrived.”

Alex looked down in front of him and noticed the plate. “Oh. Thanks.”

As he dug in, it occurred to him that, maybe, he should take a nap once they got back. The traveling, the lack of sleep, the high temperatures and the breathtaking activities of last night had, truly, been a lot for such a short period of time. And the two Espressos from this morning no longer did their job. He stifled a yawn.

“I thought you went to bed early,” chuckled Jamie. “How can you be tired again?”

“I’m old now,” joked Alex. “Get used to it.” As his eyes snuck a glance at Miles, whose eyes did the same with him, he had a feeling there would be a lot of yawning and naps in his near future. And plenty of sleepless nights.

-

He had feigned a headache. The band planned on going out tonight and he’d feigned a severe case of a nonexistent headache. Not the first time he suffered from that.

Alex carefully opened his hotel room door, just a crack, to make sure the coast was clear. Feeling very _James Bond_ at the moment, he placed his sunglasses on, looked right and left, then hurried towards the stairs.

No elevators tonight.

That risked running into an _Arctic Monkey_. And those were a nosy bunch!

One floor down, Miles’ room was. Repeating the moves, checking for other guests, assuring himself that nobody was in sight, Alex hurried down the corridor and knocked hard on his door.

Miles opened wide.

Good! He wasn’t with his band. And he wasn’t with Alex’s band. He was here. Waiting. For Alex. A grin tugged on his lips.

“Hello, _friend_.”

The grin went away. “What now?”

Lifting his arm, Miles made a show of checking the time.

“Since when do you have a wristwatch?” In thirteen years, he’d never seen him wear one.

“I usually only wear it when I go for a run.” He lowered his arm as he offered Alex entry. “It’s 8:15 p.m.!”

“Thanks, Big Ben.” Alex chuckled as he reached for Miles’ shirt. He’d come for something very specific and he wanted it now.

Miles plucked Alex’s hand off his shirt and moved it back to his side. “Sun sets at 8:18 p.m. so we have to wait a few minutes to get to the funny side of this arrangement.”

Had he lost it? Alex blinked confused. “What…wait…huh?”

“You said we should take the rules more seriously. And I agree!” He walked towards the minibar. “Water?”

“Whiskey.”

Miles snorted. “I’m being lenient already. It’s only the sun that sets in a few minutes. It’s hardly the beginning of night, as we agreed. Night, I’d say, would probably begin at midnight or so.” He handed Alex a glass of Scotch and drank one, too. “You disagree?”

“Entirely.” Alex drowned his drink and placed the glass away. “According to common definitions, night starts around nine p.m., not midnight, and yet, there is no set timeframe for the beginning or the end of it. Most people believe it begins later, once the evening ends. However, technically, one can say it starts when the sun sinks below the horizon. 8:18 p.m. in this case.”

Miles was gaping a little.

“I read a lot.”

“Noted.”

“What time is it?”

Miles looked at his watch. “8:19 p.m.”

“Why are you still dressed, then?”

Taking two large strides, Miles was right in front of him. “That thing you just did? That cocky little lecture? That was fucking sexy.”

“Strip.”

Alex’s eyes dropped to his lips as Miles leaned in, not kissing, just hovering. “Feel free to lecture me about all sorts of things.”

“Lose the fucking clothes,” ordered Alex.

Miles smirked. “Want it bad, huh?”

Alex’s patience snapped. He grabbed the hem of that damned white shirt that had been messing with his head all day and used no finesse at all to get it off of him.

Next to go were the washed-out jeans, tight as they were. They made his ass look infinitely more alluring. He’d lost count on how often he’d wanted to pat it today. That perky, well-shaped derriere that he couldn’t wait to squeeze!

Miles was laughing breathlessly as he was being stripped bare. His hands tangled in Alex’s hair, and he fisted it, bringing him up to his eye level. “I want my kiss now.”

He got his kiss. Alex ravished Miles’ mouth. He felt him melting inside of his arms. What a feeling that was!

-

Alex lay on Miles’ bed, naked and sated for the moment. His legs were stretched out. One arm was curled beneath his head, the other was languidly draped over Miles’ legs.

Miles rested next to him, on his stomach, head on the other end of the bed.

As he let his fingers travel idly up and down his calf, Alex wondered, “did you really like it?”

Miles shifted, met his eyes. “Like what? That thing you did with your finger?”

“Oh, I could tell that you liked that one!” His response had been sound and immediate. All that guitar playing did come in handy during sex. His rough finger pads proved to be a thing of extraordinary teasing power! “I meant the lecture thing…” He looked at the ceiling. “I can’t help myself. I act like a know-it-all at times. You have to tell me when I do it.”

“Why?” Miles bit his lip when Alex reached the hollow of his knee. “I think it’s hot.”

Nobody ever found it that. Most people found it bothersome. Some found it rude. His band had gotten used to it, but they, too, likely hated it. “You don’t have to say that. It’s okay, really.”

“Alex, I mean it.” Miles sat up, changed positions and came to a rest next to Alex, head propped up on his bent arm. “You know me. I don’t say stuff that I don’t mean.”

“This is different.” He twitched when Miles placed his hand on his stomach. It was nice and comforting and altogether undoing. “I don’t want you to think that you have to say nice things to me. Like, it’s okay to tell me off. My feelings aren’t easily hurt.” He’d spent years growing a thick skin. “And even if they were, you still don’t have to lie to me.”

Alex watched as Miles traced the lines of his abs. His weren’t quite as defined, but he felt some pride over them. Took him some hard working-out to get them. When his index finger dipped into his navel, a sexy grin appeared on Miles’ face. “At some point,” he rasped, leaning in, brushing his lips against Alex’s ear, “I plan on drinking Champagne out of that one.”

Alex swallowed. “Do it now.”

“Minibar doesn’t have Champagne. I think the only thing I’ve left is orange juice.” He teeth nipped on his lobe.

Miles’ little touches were stealing his breath. And his ability to think straight. “Drink that, then.”

A low chuckle vibrated from Miles’ throat. His lips placed a hot kiss to his neck. “I utterly, completely, thoroughly enjoy it when you show off your knowledge.” Another kiss. “And I don’t find it offensive ‘cause I know you’re not doing it to put me down or anything. It’s just one of your tics. You’re smart. That’s sexy.”

“I’m arrogant.”

“You’re insecure.”

Alex froze. “Nobody has ever accused me of that before.” He sat up, put Miles’ hand away. “And it’s not exactly a compliment.” He got off the bed and reached for his pants.

“But you’re not denying it, are you?” Miles sat up.

Alex stopped getting dressed as he faced him. He felt insulted. Almost. Only, Miles wasn’t the type who would insult him. Which meant, that’s not why he had said it. But why, then? “Why did you say it? If you think I’m that, pointing it out does no good, does it?”

“I like that you are. I’ve seen glimpses of it over the years. But since I’ve gotten to know you better, I find that it’s one of the things that I like most about you. Nobody in the world can rattle you on stage, nobody can make you doubt your guitar skills! You play a bunch of instruments, you speak different languages, you know a ton of stuff. All of that lets you come off as arrogant. But barely anyone knows that you work your ass off to deserve that arrogance. You work really fucking hard! When it comes to this?” Miles moved his hand between them. “You’re insecure. You tell me how I feel about you because you think that’s how I’m supposed to feel! But I’m not like that. And being insecure is not a bad thing, Alex. It’s a human thing. I don’t want you to be perfect. I like you because you are the way you are. I like that I can fluster you.” He got off the bed and reached for his hand.

Alex went rigid. He allowed the touch to happen, but all muscles were stretched taut. All senses were alert. Danger was lurking and he felt it.

“I like that you worry about hurting my feelings. I like that you want me to be honest with you and say what I think. But I don’t like it when you call yourself arrogant. You say it as though you’re trying to scare me away. And I don’t want to be scared away.”

He took a shaky breath. This was exactly the kind of thing he did not want! The point of an affair was to have great sex, enjoy the afterglow and part amicably. And now? Now, he was fucking annoyed because Miles was sitting in front of him, looking all caring and emotional and Alex himself wanted nothing more than to bloody hug him!

“Stay the night.”

Alex stepped away, tore his hand away from his hold. “Never!” He grabbed his shirt and shoes and left in a hurry.

-

Half an hour later, dressed somewhat, he sat by the pool, strumming away on his guitar. For a few days now, there was this tune stuck in his head that he couldn’t shake. Much like Miles, who was also stuck in his head.

It really was no revelation, was it?

That he was insecure?

Wasn’t it inevitable to become that when the world called you arrogant on a regular basis? Especially when he tried not to be? Wasn’t it normal to become insecure when your girlfriend betrayed you with your friend and made it seem that it was all your fault? Wasn’t it unavoidable when the guy you loved to hate for over a decade was suddenly the one person in the world that could put a certain kind of smile on your face?

He knew he was insecure.

And he knew he was balancing on very shaky ground at the moment. The world that he used to know and walked steadily upon had begun to change right beneath his feet and more often than not he felt wobbly.

He’d discovered he didn’t like it when the world belittled his hard-earned confidence. He’d found he didn’t like it when his friends assumed the worst of him. He’d found he didn’t like a lot of things that he’d allowed to let happen in the past couple of years. For a while now, he’d felt a longing to be a little more honest about his emotions.

Only, that had the unwelcome side effect of becoming vulnerable.

Permitting that? Well…that wasn’t quite so easy a step to take.

He preferred being in control of things.

Which made being with Miles such an adventure. With Miles, he was never in control. Around him, his head never worked right. His body always betrayed him. And no matter how often he ordered his heart to stop, it kept fluttering on in his presence!

And now, Miles had demonstrated a striking talent for reading him! Alex felt like a bloody well-thumped, open diary.

Being with Miles was a huge thing for Alex. Not because he was a guy or a colleague or even the person he’d argued with for years. Miles wasn’t like his past couple of girlfriends. He couldn’t be kept at arm’s length. A pair of shoes couldn’t distract him from noticing stuff. He had no problem speaking about feelings! He just blurted out whatever he thought! Like tonight. There wasn’t a person in the world that Alex knew who would so casually accuse him of being insecure and then say that he liked that.

Then, to top it all off, he’d asked him to stay the night!

After they had spent a day stumbling over the rules of their arrangement and finally agreeing to take them more seriously.

The worst part?

Alex would have loved to spend the night.

He had no doubt that sleeping in Miles’ arms would be an unforgettable thing.

It would be something that led to love.

Because of that, it had to be avoided at all costs.

Maybe it was the night. Maybe they should rearrange their deal. Have sex during the day and be friends by night. The darkness had an uncanny ability to reveal the shadows that he wanted to keep out of sight. At night, lines got blurry and rules turned hazy. At night, people tended to say things they would never dare to say in the bright light of day.

He grabbed the pencil as a line hit him.

_Cause the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day_

A small smile lit his face as he glanced at the sheet in front of him. Lines began to add up. Notes filled the empty spots. This song was getting somewhere.

He put the guitar away, finished his drink and lay back on the lounger.

“Should I apologize, or is that something you and I don’t do?”

He looked up to find Miles standing there, barefoot, wearing jeans and a white tank. “One of these days I’d like to see you wear a trash bag.”

“Why?”

“To test a theory,” he grumbled. “You’d probably look sexy in that as well.”

A slow smile lit his face. “Speaking of dressing up, there’s a pair of underwear I was told you brought with you. I’d like to see that someday. Soon.” Miles took a seat on the lounger next to him and reclined. “I shouldn’t have asked you to stay the night. I crossed a line. I’m sorry for that.”

“I don’t mind that you asked me. I just hope you understand why I can’t do it.”

“I understand.” After a pause, Miles continued. “What I said earlier, about you being insecure…I should have said that at a different time. At a different place. As your friend. Not in bed. Not when we’re lovers.”

“I don’t want to be that way. I don’t like that side of me. To hear that you do?” Alex let his head fall to the side, looked at Miles, watched him gaze at the stars. What was it about him that made it impossible for Alex to keep a hold on his thoughts? Why was it impossible to not confess to what he felt? “Thank you for saying that.”

Miles met his eyes. “Will you do me a favor?”

Alex shrugged. “Like what?”

“Don’t apologize for the way you are.”

A soft chuckle escaped Alex. “Alright.”

Their gazes lingered on another. What a dangerous one he was. Alex would have to invest in some heavy equipment and fortify the walls that kept his heart locked up safe. Because that little bit of brick wall which currently did the job was tumbling fast beneath the crushing eyes of Miles Kane.

“I know we just, like, seconds ago, mentioned sleeping together.” A devastatingly sly smile lit his face. “But, I’m dead-ass tired, the air out here is nice and cool and I’m about to drift off. So, I’m giving you a fair warning. If you plan on sleeping out here tonight, you have to accept me snoring next to you.”

He laughed louder now. “As long as you stay on your own lounger, I think we’re fine.” As he said it, the softest sounds of snoring began to fill the quiet air. There was such a peaceful and calm look on Miles’ slumbering face that Alex couldn’t help but keep his eyes on him. He was a work of art, inside and out. He was never what you expected him to be. He could be interpreted in a million different ways. And Alex found he could spend a lifetime just watching him sleep. 

He should really come with a warning sign!

Danger.

Beware.

Melts your heart.

Gradually, Alex’s eyes began to fall shut and, as he drifted off into a nice dream where there were cakes and cookies and naked Miles Kanes at every single corner, it occurred to him in the far back of his resting mind that this wasn’t the first time he’d dreamt about him this week. And, he hoped dimly, not the last time either.

.

.

**Spoiler Chapter 14:**

#

“You know,” breathed Alex, pushing deeper against him, “there’s a difference between  a  lap dance and  a  striptease. I don’t think we’ve settled on what, precisely, you’d prefer.” He rolled his hips again.

#


	14. Trial And Error

Chapter 14

They had scarcely seen each other all day. Stuck between doing a bit of press and some radio interviews, Team Kane and Team Monkeys had been on a tight schedule, which had left no room at all for joined lunch, a bit of free time or even a tiny little moment of privacy between Alex and himself.

Sure, Miles wasn't supposed to have that kind of moment with him during the day, anyway. But he wanted one. A brief one. Just a second. Maybe two. Something to get him through the evening. He'd have to be on stage in fifteen minutes, play for half an hour, then the band would perform their show, which would last almost two hours, then there'd be the inevitable drinks and meet-and-greets in the green room. If luck was out to kick him in the shin, which he considered highly likely, then they’d end up getting invited to a club or a bar and they’d have to squeeze in a little appearance for politeness’s sake. 

Miles sighed heavily as he sank deeper into his dressing room's couch. He wouldn't get a hold on Alex's sweet, luscious lips for hours.

The door opened and closed quickly. Miles opened one eye, glanced, spotted him and opened the other eye as well. He sat up straight, hoped his shirt wasn't wrinkly and hastily checked with his fingers if all his hairs were still styled into their rightful place. “Hey.”

From his spot by the door, Alex sent him a flirty grin. “Hi.”

Biting his lip coyly, he pointed towards the large clock above the door. “It's 7:59 p.m. and not yet fully dark.”

“We have to find a way to make you lose that obnoxious fascination with time.” He leaned his shoulder against the door, crossed his arms. “You should be lucky we're not in London right now. Rome is an hour ahead.”

Miles smiled as he got up and straightened out his pants. When he made his way across the room, towards Alex, the latter held up a hand.

“No, no. Night, remember.”

A snort from Miles. “Think I’m trying to kiss you?”

Alex laughed at that. “I can see that you are! You have that look in your eyes.”

“What look?”

“That I’m-so-trying-to-kiss-you look.”

Amused by that, Miles shrugged his shoulders innocently. “What if I am trying to?”

“I did not come to break any rules,” said Alex.

Miles didn’t believe him for one second. “Why did you come?”

“To let you know, in an entirely platonic and strictly friend-like manner, that I'm wearing the red _Hugo Boss_ underwear that you so desperately want to see me in. And,” he added, detaching from the door and taking a single step towards Miles, “I feel like swaying my hips tonight.”

His jaw was hanging open. No doubt. Miles tried and failed to pick it up. His head filled with images of Alex, in his underwear, giving him the world’s dirtiest lap dance. He swallowed hard.

“I detect a note of interest in your reaction.”

“Just a note?” Miles gulped down a growl. “Keep searching and you’ll find an entire opera!” He took a step and got nearer to Alex, who gave him a look, half-warning and half-dare. Another step. “What do I have to do for a kiss?”

“In general, or right now?” teased Alex, lifting a brow.

“Right this fucking moment.”

“That one comes at a high price,” he let him know, smiling dangerously. His voice took on a huskier shade. “You’d have to find a way to cheat time and space. You’d have to find a way to coax night into appearing early. Bring forth the stars.”

Miles stood right in front of him now. He stretched out his arm, reached for the light switch. “Did you know that somebody put some of those glow-in-the-dark star stickers onto the ceiling of this dressing room?” He killed the light.

Alex glanced up and laughed. “Oh, that one just worked exceptionally well for you, didn’t it?”

“It sure did,” agreed Miles with a smirk. He grabbed Alex’s waist and went for his lips with no hesitation. He had him up against the wall in no time. Within seconds, their legs were entwined, thighs rubbing against crotches. Moaning filled the silence. Sounds of kissing. Hushed whispers.

“Daylight lasts too long in this country,” complained Miles and licked provocatively into Alex’s mouth. “Who needs the sun anyway?”

“Nobody,” whispered Alex.

“Nobody,” agreed Miles, sinking further into the kiss. His fingers busied themselves with the small buttons of Alex’s shirt, undoing one at a time, exposing more and more of his golden skin, making his mouth water with appetite.

Three buttons in, Alex covered his hands with his own, effectively stopping him. “Slow down. You can’t do that now.”

“Unbuttoning your shirt? You want to do it with your clothes on?” He wiggled his brows suggestively. After all, he loved to be accommodating.

“I want it in any way imaginable,” professed Alex. He traced the tip of his index finger over Miles’ temple, which amused the latter. “But you don’t have time for sex right now. You got a show to play.”

Miles, leaning into Alex’s touch, groaned in frustration. Defiantly, he grabbed Alex’s head and kissed him again. Hard and quick. Hoping it’d keep him sated for a little bit. It was over too soon, though. It did shit for him. If anything, it made him want him more and not less. But, reality called insistently. There was knocking on his door now. Some assistant, probably, wondering why he wasn’t backstage already. “Damn working hours,” grumbled Miles and headed for the door.

“See you later, baby!” Alex called after him with a chuckle.

-

Miles waited, side-stage as the Monkeys took their bow. He’d joined them for _505_ earlier during their concert and now counted the seconds until they’d make their way past him. That would give him the chance to brush his knuckles against Alex’s hand. It was a sneaky little touch that he’d planned. But he needed to touch him.

Alex had been a bloody spectacle to see, tonight. He’d been energetic and vibrant and funny and, also, a fucking tease. He’d touched his own ass on several occasions, making it look like nothing, like an innocent thing, and to the audience, it had no doubt been that.

Only, Miles had seen the way Alex’s eyes had glinted. He’d seen the air of mischief that had engulfed him all night. He’d seen the tiny, little wink that Alex had flashed in his direction in the middle of the gig.

During _505_ , Alex had sidled up to him, all for the show, _of course_. He’d slid his hand over his shoulder so goddamn provocatively that Miles had been tempted to drop his favorite guitar and fucking kiss him in front of everybody just to teach him a lesson about poking lions!

“What a show, huh?”

He was abruptly ripped from his thoughts. The Monkey’s manager stood next to him. Marianne. Also known as _Marianne the Beast_. She was a force to be reckoned with, he’d discovered. She was fiercely talented and an ace in her field. She was on top of everything, never shy of a comeback and preternaturally typing away on her phone.

She was also a bitch.

It wasn’t Miles who thought so. Though, he didn’t disagree. On the contrary!

Marianne liked to call herself that.

And nobody disagreed with it.

Alex liked to refer to her as an ancient demon. Jamie called her a machine. Matt and Nick considered her the devil in persona.

Miles nodded at her. “Phenomenal!”

“You’ve spent some time with them lately. Any news on new songs? Tour will be over in a few months. Usually, Alex has me booking studio time by now. Should I be worried?”

She was nosy, and he knew it came with her field of work. Kept out of the loop, she couldn’t do her job and be prepared for every situation. Nonetheless, it wasn’t his job to keep her informed. And, personally, he didn’t like her, so he had no interest in speaking to her more than he absolutely needed to. “I wouldn’t know. Ask them.”

“Right,” she mused. “You argue. Constantly. But not lately, I’ve noticed.”

“Tour,” he spoke distantly, with a trace of annoyance and a spritz of disinterest. “We try to coexist.”

“Ah.”

The band made it off stage. He patted Jamie’s shoulder with one hand, gave some glowing reviews to the band as they walked past him, and he let the knuckle of his index finger glide ever so vaguely along the back of Alex’s hand as he slipped by next to him.

He felt him twitch.

And smiled to himself.

-

“The hell was that tonight?” asked Miles as he pulled his hotel room’s door wide open for him.

Alex marched inside, grabbed his waist, and walked him back, to the couch. “Sit, now. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Miles put his hands on the back of Alex’s thighs as he hovered in front of him, pulling him closer. He looked up to meet his eyes. “All that ass-grabbing and the looks you gave me?” His hands moved up, to his behind. He squeezed it. “Teasing me like that?”

Alex lurched forward. “That?” He pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed some buttons. Def Leppard’s _Pour Some Sugar On Me_ filled the air. “ _That_ was foreplay.” He shrugged off his leather jacket.

Licking his lips, Miles realized that Alex was wearing that tight black button-down he’d gotten during their shopping trip the other day. His teeth sank into his lower lip as his hands slid slowly down the back of his hard legs. “You’re really doing it, aren’t you?”

Twirling around with a naughty smile, Alex sat down on his lap, pushed his rear directly into Miles’ perking erection. His hips rolled from side to side, then up and down, to the rhythm of the music, driving up the levels of Miles’ arousal. Tossing his head back like the most seductive of strippers, Alex pushed himself deeper against Miles, eliciting a solid moan. “You know, there’s a difference between a lap dance and a striptease. I don’t think we’ve settled on what, precisely, you’d prefer.” He rolled his hips again.

A throaty, incomprehensible mess of syllables slipped from Miles’ mouth.

Alex chuckled. He got up, undid his belt and cocked his head to the side. With a smoldering look in his eyes and a sexy twist of his hips, he raised one brow and smirked. “Want me naked?”

Miles, transfixed, nodded jerkily.

He tugged the belt out of its resting place with vigor, looped it around Miles’ neck and leaned in for a wild kiss. When it was done and Miles felt reduced to a breathless, aroused shell, Alex straightened up and resumed his little dance. His hands began to work on his buttons as he slowly swung his hips from side to side.

Miles couldn’t stop staring. It was such a stunning thing to witness. He couldn’t believe that Alex Turner, the serious, often annoyed-looking, strikingly talented and unimaginably complicated musician, a veritable rock star, was right there, in front of him, having the time of his life stripping for him! Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out some cash and grinned.

He grabbed the front of Alex’s shirt and he hurtled him towards him. His bloody hips were still swaying hypnotizingly.

As Alex cupped his face with both hands, Miles moved one hand down his body, across his rising cock, past his balls, where he stopped for a quick squeeze, between his legs, towards his butt. The other one slipped a 50-Euro bill into Alex’s jeans’ pocket. “Lose the pants,” whispered Miles, kissing his stomach through the shirt.

Alex lost the pants. Hurriedly.

And there they were. The fire-engine red briefs. And, fucking hell, he sure looked delicious in them! His eyes zeroed in on the outline of Alex’s hard erection as a delighted smile grew on his face. He reached out to touch it, placed his palm against it, rubbed it.

Alex put a stop to it quickly, shaking his head as he did so. “You enjoy. I tease. Not the other way around.” Straddling Miles, he put one hand against his jaw and he nudged his head back. “Otherwise, I have to tie your hands down.” His mouth went to his throat, placing kisses all over there. “Like this?” His tongue licked where his pulse beat. “I can feel that you do.” Another kiss.

Miles damn near passed out. Curling both arms around Alex’s body, he pulled him against himself, trying to get him to connect at a very important juncture. A part of him wanted to be tied up and be played with in the dirtiest of manners.

Alex pushed back, grinning. “Na-uh!” He placed a feathery kiss on Miles’ lips before standing up again. He spun back around and wiggled his butt. Turning his head, pointedly looking at him over his shoulder, he waited expectantly.

It took Miles a moment, but he laughed when he caught Alex’s drift. He immediately slipped a note of cash into the underwear. Not into the waistband, but between his thighs.

Alex flashed him a scandalized look. And smirked. The shirt slipped from his shoulders. Then back up again. The song neared its ending.

Miles reached for the shirt and pulled on it.

“Want it off?”

He watched in awe as Alex let it slip all the way down. The fine black silk landed on the floor, crumpled and forgotten. He sat back down on Miles’ lap, back pressed to front, and as he entwined their hands, tugging his arms around himself, Alex leaned back and sighed wantonly. “Touch me,” he whispered.

Miles didn’t need to be told twice. “What happened to just enjoying?”

Biting his lip, Alex tossed a cheeky look over his shoulder. “I changed my mind.”

“In that case,” hushed Miles, “Let me demonstrate my appreciation!” Pulling free one hand, he slid it slowly down the front of his lover’s beautiful front and took his time taking note of all the little dips and curves and lines and shapes he came across. He was such a glorious sight to see, and not because of his muscles or his taut body or his perfect proportions.

No.

Miles was amazed by the little things he discovered hidden between all that perfection. There was a tiny little mark right above his pelvic bone. Barely recognizable from a distance, but as he’d ventured past it on his way towards a more cylindrical part of Alex’s anatomy, he’d found out that it had the shape of a flower and it amused him endlessly.

Between Alex’s thighs, there was the tiniest scar he’d ever seen. It reminded him of a rainbow and he’d yet to find out how he’d gotten it. Alex was peculiarly unforthcoming with information and therefore Miles had a hunch that it was an embarrassing story. He was dying to hear it.

Above his navel, maybe an inch to the upper left, a birthmark hid in plain sight and when Miles had seen it, he’d told Alex with a chuckle that it looked like a little heart.

Alex had rolled his eyes.

His index finger arrived at the desired destination and Miles slipped it beneath the red fabric, brushing Alex’s shaft ever so slightly. But it was enough to make him twitch. And as he did that, he moved his hips in a deliciously wicked manner, one that made Miles gasp out loud.

The rest of his hand slipped into Alex’s briefs. Miles encircled the hard cock. He began to stroke it while falling in sync with Alex, who kept rolling his hips and rubbing his ass against Miles’ straining erection.

“You’re wearing too much,” protested Alex. “I want you naked.”

Eyes half-closed, Miles nodded shakily. But he didn’t make any attempts to undress. He kept his hold on Alex. And Alex continued rubbing against Miles.

“I’m really not doing this right, aren’t I? Shouldn’t I be the one making you cum,” asked Alex, out of breath and lost in pleasure. “I’m the exotic dancer, am I not? You’re my customer?”

“Consider me a very happy, highly grateful customer.” Miles whimpered as Alex pushed harder against him. “And believe me, I’m very close to blowing my load.”

“Are you? Take me with you, then,” pled Alex breathlessly. His movements became uneven and so did his respiration.

Miles picked up his rhythm, moved his hand up and down, played with his crown.

Alex exploded right on top of him, shaking and shivering as he spilled himself into Miles’ hand. The other hand, Alex entwined his own with as he luxuriated in his post-orgasmic state. Satisfied, he sank deeper into Miles’ arms. “You were supposed to cum with me.”

“There’s still time for that,” smiled Miles, and kissed his neck sweetly.

“You’ve successfully distracted me from what I set out to do.” Alex rolled over and away from him. Gradually rising to his feet, he held out his hand. “Let me see what I can do to distract you…”

In no time, Miles was stripped bare by Alex and lying face-down on the bed. With a sly grin and plenty of anticipation, he raised his butt and wiggled it

“Patience,” hushed Alex with a trace of laughter, crawling on top of him. His body was pressed against that of Miles’, everywhere.

Miles felt the warmth from him, felt the energy as the air around them crackled. He grew restless. Needy. And he squirmed underneath Alex’s hot lips as the latter began to kiss a wet trail down his spine. “Have me,” he pleaded.

“How?” rasped Alex. 

“Make me lose my mind.” He was halfway there already, after all.

His lips ventured further down. Miles groaned. Damn all that teasing!

Alex left a playful kiss on his left ass cheek as his finger traveled down the center. “Are you mine to play with as I please?” he asked naughtily, kissing his butt again.

Miles didn’t care what he’d be, as long as he’d _do_ something. _Anything!_ “Yes,” he murmured on a strangled breath.

Then his eyes went wide. Miles garbled something – he had no idea what he’d even meant to garble – when he felt Alex’s tongue at his puckered hole. “Gra–arh!” His lungs no longer functioned properly. His eyes rolled to the back of his head. His fingers dug desperately into the mattress and when Alex’s tongue pushed into him, he felt as though the earth was quaking!

Relentlessly continuing on, allowing Miles no chance to comprehend or even collect some oxygen, Alex let his tongue play and lick and be obscenely filthy.

“Holy fucking shit,” yelled Miles, overcome with flashes of heat and shivering from coldness at the same time. The room was spinning. He forgot his own name.

Alex held him in place, hands firmly placed on his ass. He kept plundering.

“Alex, oh my God, yes! YES!”

Miles blacked out. For a second. He was sure. He had no idea what happened. There were shivers and tingles and his heart beat rapidly and all he saw was white and, for an entire moment, the world just stopped existing.

He lay on the mattress, legs and arms stretched out. He was breathing hard and covered in a thin layer of sweat. His mouth was dry and he yearned for water, but somebody would have to hydrate him for he was all out of power.

Alex came to rest next to him. On his stomach, arms crossed beneath his head, he smiled lazily at him. “Good or bad?” he asked.

Miles tried to say something, but it was too hard.

He grinned like an idiot, instead.

Alex’s smile turned wide. “Good, huh?” He reached out, gently brushed Miles’ forehead and scooted closer.

After a long while of gazing at each other, Miles finally recovered his voice. He edged closer towards Alex. Their noses almost touched. “You keep staring at my lips,” he whispered, curious. He noticed him doing that not for the first time.

Alex moved the final bit, bringing their foreheads together. “Blame your lips, for they have taken hold of my imagination and refuse to let go.”

Had they? The idea of it brought a smile to Miles’ face. Tentatively, afraid of moving too rapidly, too boldly, he slid his arm over Alex’s waist and tried his hardest not to grab him and tow him in. Instead, he let it rest there, patiently waiting for him to bolt or move away. But nothing happened. Alex remained. “Tell me a secret. Something nobody else knows about you.” He longed to know all of his secrets, wished to know every detail of him.

Alex directed his gaze from Miles’ lips to his eyes. “Sometimes, I feel like you already know all my secrets. Even the ones that I long ago forgot about. And it scares me.”

Sometimes, Miles felt the same way. He became a little more daring. He curled his fingers around Alex’s waist, held on to him. “It scares me,” confessed Miles, “how intense it is. Being with you. It’s never been like that with anybody else.”

With anybody else, Miles had been able to walk away. Sometimes he’d stayed, but he’d done that because he’d wanted to do that. He’d never needed to stay. With Alex, it was different. And with each kiss and every touch, he felt it becoming harder.

Suddenly, Alex twitched. Broke eye-contact. Rolled away on his back. “I should—”

Miles didn’t want him to leave. “Not yet. The night is still so young.”

Alex remained. “No more talking then,” he whispered. He slowly rolled on top of him and silenced Miles’ lips with a kiss that went right to soul. It was infinite and gentle and full of danger, for it carried lust but so many other things as well.

Miles promised. “But I need you,” he admitted honestly. “Badly.”

“I’ll stay.” His hands touched Miles’ face. “But just for sex,” he clarified. “Just for that and for nothing else.”

“Just sex,” agreed Miles.

Alex nodded. “Just sex,” he repeated himself. As he leaned up, to capture Miles’ lips in a thunderous kiss, he kept on repeating himself. “Just sex.”

“Just sex,” hushed Miles, distantly wondering who he was speaking to. Was he trying to convince himself?

The kiss grew headier, lips became frantic, hands began to grope. Alex sat up as he straddled him, rubbing to and fro, going harder each time.

Miles sat up as well, grabbed on to Alex’s legs, pulled them around himself. His rock-solid shaft lined up against Alex’s as desire became, once again, too strong to resist. They moved in perfect sync, thrust by thrust. The air filled with gasps for air. They clung to each other. Embracing. Kissing. Alex lifted slightly and Miles pushed into him, agonizingly slow. Their eyes were locked on each other. Alex’s arms were curled tightly around Miles’ neck.

And as Miles settled on a steady, languid pace, he rubbed his hands up and down Alex’s back, eager for every last bit of contact he could get.

It slowly dawned on him that all those safety blocks they had put in place to avoid falling in love were entirely too ineffective. They needed to stop this. It was bloody insane! They were playing with matches and the dry hay was lying in wait!

Alex cupped Miles’ cheeks, touching them tenderly. He leaned in, kissed him, again and again, thoroughly, boundlessly. They came together, continuously wrapped up in one another and even then, breathless and spent, they still kept kissing until their lips hurt.

When it was done, Miles was on his back, covered by a sheet, observing Alex as he got dressed. They hadn’t spoken a word in minutes and as Alex buttoned his shirt, Miles leaned up and reached for his hand.

Alex allowed him that touch. For a moment. Then he buttoned on.

Miles smiled softly. He kept the sheet on top of him as he swung his legs off the bed, to sit upright. “I feel like I’ve made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention.”

“I’m not,” assured Alex, shaking his head. “Not at all. It’s just time for me to go.” He stopped getting dressed to brush a stray hair from Miles’ forehead. It made Miles ease up. “You look tired. And I am tired.”

“Will you return tomorrow night?” It seemed like such a strange question to ask, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that the night had unveiled some truths that both would have preferred to have remained in the shadows for a while.

Startled, Alex blinked. “Of course!” He stepped forward, between Miles’ legs and leaned down for a tender kiss. “I’ll return for as long as you’ll have me.” He let go. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” whispered Miles as Alex slipped away.

-

Miles sat by the bar of an obscure little indie rock club in the center of Rome, wondering why so few people were here. He’d spotted a flyer for this band he’d heard of before, some new rock band who sang in Italian. He was always interested in hearing new music and he’d never heard a rock song sang in Italian, so, naturally, his curiosity had been peaked.

He’d considered asking Alex to join him, knowing he was just as excited about hearing new things, but he’d chickened out. He hadn’t known how to ask without it coming across as an invite for a date. And, also, after last night?

He brought his bottle of beer to his mouth and drank it. He was a bloody coward, Miles had come to realize. He’d always accused Alex of being one, but he himself wasn’t the least bit different! He’d avoided him all day. Just as Alex had avoided him all day. Two peas in a pot, truly.

Not that he could blame him, though! Miles drank more and once the bottle was empty, he quickly ordered another one. He rubbed his face with one hand and sighed. 

God! Last night had been awful. Alex had clearly wanted to leave after their first fuck, but Miles had felt all emotional and attached, suddenly. And he’d allowed it to get the better of him. He’d gotten clingy and needy and he’d tried to cuddle and – the memory of it made him sick.

He’d all but glued himself to Alex! And then, when Alex had been ready to bolt, Miles had held on to him, had asked him, _begged him_ to stay!

And Alex had stayed.

And the sex they’d had?

It had left him fucking dizzy! It had been intense and meaningful and different. So different than anything he’d ever experienced before! They’d stared into each other’s eyes the whole fucking time! He’d never looked into anyone’s eyes during sex before. Not like that!

And he’d certainly never do it again! What he’d seen? Fucking haunting!

He tried to swallow the memory with more beer.

“Here you are.”

And promptly choked on it when Alex sat down next to him.

“What the—” More coughing. “How did you find me?”

Ordering his own beer, Alex got comfortable and shrugged off his jacket. “Asked Jamie and the other guys. No one knew where you went! Not even your own band! Then I remembered seeing the flyer in your room last night.”

Alex had been looking for him? Miles had a nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach. That could only mean one thing. “You’re here to end it, then?”

Freezing mid-move, beer bottle hovering in front of his mouth, Alex looked at him. Rather, he stared. “How drunk are you?”

Good question. He used what little power he’d left in his head and attempted to count the beers he’d had. What number came after five? He scrunched his nose. Then blinked. Did it matter? He was here to break up with him. And they weren’t even together! How confusing was that, huh? And unfair! “I messed up once!” Oh no! He was doing it again! He was holding on too tight! “But if you must, then do it!”

Alex still stared at him and Miles began to wonder if he had a booger dropping from his nose or something. He wiped his face self-consciously. “What?”

“I’d really like to know,” said Alex, “what weird conversations you’re having with yourself in your head right now!”

“That’s private,” said Miles petulantly.

Alex shook his head with a chuckle. “I’m here to find out why you’ve run away from me all day!”

“I wasn’t running away,” he lied. “I was very busy! You’ve been running away from me!”

“I’ve done what?”

“Saw you in the café this morning. You looked away when I entered! Deliberately! And then, when Jamie and you were walking into the lobby, you all but ran into the elevator once you saw me!”

“I looked away—” Alex paused, leaned closer towards Miles.

Miles leaned back.

Rolling his eyes, Alex placed a hand on his neck and pulled him back in. He lowered his voice. “I looked away because, when you walked into the café, you were wearing that fucking black pants and that black shirt that always leaves me with the dirtiest of fantasies and considering I was wedged between Matt and Nick, I didn’t feel like getting a fucking stiffy!”

Miles was too distracted by the sensation of Alex’s hot breath crashing against his face and it took an extra moment for the words to hit him. He frowned. “What?”

“And I didn’t even see you in the lobby! Jamie was talking my ear off about Katie and children and how I should consider settling down and getting married! I saw the elevator and used my chance for an escape! Why were _you_ avoiding _me_? And what the fuck makes you think I came to end it?”

“‘Cause of last night,” mumbled Miles. He wiggled his head out of Alex’s hand. “It got all weird and…I all but forced you to stay and—”

“Are you fucking crazy?” Alex grabbed Miles’ bottle and sniffed it. “You sure that’s beer?”

Miles snapped the bottle from his grasp. “It is! I’m serious!”

“That’s fucking nonsense!”

“Don’t you remember?” Miles shook his head, ashamed. “You said you don’t want us to get too close and I did _that!”_

“Did fucking what?” asked Alex impatiently.

Miles began to get angry. Here he was, spilling his heart, admitting his crime, and Alex didn’t bloody get it! “You want me for sex and sex only. And I got all cuddly and made you stay for a second time!”

Taking a deep breath, briefly gazing towards the ceiling, then back towards Miles, Alex grabbed his head with both hands this time. “Listen closely. I stayed because I wanted to stay! I had sex with you because I wanted to have sex with you! And if you think your cuddling tendencies are a new thing, remember again and try harder! I want you! Period. And despite the fact that you’re fucking hot and kiss like a God, even you can’t make me do shit that I don’t want to do!”

“I can’t?”

“No, Miles.”

Alex grabbed his beer and Miles grabbed his own. For a few moments, they sat in silence and the latter let Alex’s declaration sink in. He felt a great deal better for knowing he hadn’t coerced Alex into sex. But the fact remained: Last night had felt weird. Too much, in a way.

“I’m not the only one who is insecure, it appears.”

“I’m not…okay, fine, I am,” conceded Miles. “But can you blame me? I’ve never had sex with a friend before! I don’t know how to do it, okay? I like you. A whole damn lot, and that itself is weird enough! We’ve spent years fighting with each other! And then, last night…”

“I got real,” summed Alex up.

Miles nodded. “It did.”

“We’re both struggling. Isn’t that good? It means we try to get it right. Trial and error and all that?”

“So, like, you still want to try?”

Alex glared at him. “You better fucking believe I do!”

“I promise never to snuggle with you again.”

Loud laughter roared from Alex. “Baby, you can’t help yourself!” He met his eyes with a sincere expression. “I can handle it, okay? And when it becomes too much, I’ll let you know. You have to trust me. Same way I trust you.”

He’d try.

But it would be hard. He wasn’t sure he still knew how to trust his own feelings. At least, not when it came to Alex. Their thing…it wasn’t familiar or easy. It followed no pattern and stuck to no rules. It was crazy at times. And they were only a few days into it.

It was only a matter of time before the ride would get even wilder.

“Why didn’t you ask me to come along?” Alex sipped his beer and directed his attention to the band. “They sound really good!”

Miles lowered his head, looked sheepish. “Was afraid you’d think I asked you out on a date.” He noticed the look on Alex’s face and exhaled. “I know, alright? It’s silly. Can’t help myself!”

“Relax,” said Alex, softly. Resignedly. “I’d like to think…” He looked away. “I’m not sure I’d have taken it as a friends-thing. I might have mistaken it as a date-thing, so, your worries aren’t meritless.”

Miles turned to face the stage as well. It felt good knowing they were both struggling. “Trial and error.”

At that, Alex smiled. “We’ll figure it out.”

Leaning a little closer, playfully bumping his shoulder, Miles smirked. “We’re out as friends, tonight. Let’s be friends, then. See that guy over there by the stage, with the blue shirt?”

Alex nodded, closing more distance between them. “What about him?”

“He totally checked you out a moment ago!”

Laughter.

First from Miles, then from Alex, and then it really did begin to get easier. They were slowly falling back into the early days, when their friendship was forming and flirting was just a playful thing that led to a few wayward touches and not to incinerating sex.

A few beers later, comfortably buzzed and feeling close to flying now that his worries and fears had been taken off his shoulders, Miles curled his arm around Alex’s shoulder as they stood in the back of the club, listening to the band sing Italian, while taking a smoke.

“ _Seven Nation Army_ sucks in Italian. Really loses its punch!” Miles grimaced as they kept ruining the song for him.

Alex agreed wholeheartedly. “Song’s a classic. Some things you don’t mess with!”

“Hi there.”

Both guys turned to the side, where a twenty-something black-haired woman with a short skirt and an _AC/DC_ shirt stood. She smiled at Alex. “You’re that actor, aren’t you? That one guy, from that American tv series?”

“He’s that,” grinned Miles.

She held out her hand. “I’m Sofia.”

Alex tossed him his perfected _What The Fuck_ -look. “I’m, uh…” He smiled politely at the woman.

“It’s okay!” She stepped closer, straight into Alex’s personal space.

The grin fell from Miles’ lips.

She continued. “Huge fan!” Her hand touched his arm. “My friend and I have been wondering, you guys are here all by yourself and that doesn’t seem right to us. Would you like to join us for a while?”

“That’s a nice offer,” said Alex. “But…”

Miles inwardly rolled his eyes. For all his cockiness and his smug looks, when cornered by a stranger, Alex had only two reactions – dork or asshole. For this one, he chose dork.

Her hand traveled further up Alex’s arm. “We don’t bite! Unless you want us to.” A giggle. “You got nice arms. You work out or something?”

“Sometimes,” said Alex. Miles saw that he was getting antsy, ready to bolt.

“Your girlfriend’s a lucky one. There is a girlfriend, right? I mean a guy like you?” Her hand reached his shoulder.

Miles ticked his jaw. That one was _his_ shoulder. He reached over, cupped Alex’s cheek possessively, ignored the stunned look on his face and took his lips in a kiss so deep that he briefly forgot to breathe. It lasted only for a short moment, then Alex snapped out of his stupor and kissed him back with equal fervor. After that, he not only forgot to breathe, he forgot his name, the date and everything else as well.

Only when his lungs began to burn from the lack of oxygen, he let up.

“Oh,” he heard the woman say. It was the last thing he heard from her. Miles kept his eyes on Alex’s.

Alex had his ones closed. His lips were parted, and a dazed look had settled on his face. Until, at long last, he blinked. A moment later, he stared at Miles with wide wonder. “What the hell was that?”

“Me crossing a line,” said Miles, well aware of that. But he was a little drunk and that woman had gotten a bit too touchy for his taste!

“Were you jealous?” asked Alex, still stunned.

Miles squinted. “What? No!” 

Alex snorted. “You were!”

“Was not!”

“Oh, of course, you were!”

“Nu-uh!” He crossed his arms defensively. “She wasn’t getting the message.”

“What message?”

“You’re mine!”

“I am?”

Miles shrugged, almost shyly. “Well…I mean, for now. Not in a, you know, crazy, psycho way. But you're not available! Aren’t you? She got all grabby with you!”

Alex snatched his hand and tugged him with him on his way through the club.

“What are you doing?” Miles tried to keep up with his hasty pace. They were in the middle of a discussion! “Where are we going?”

Alex pulled him into the men’s room, which was empty – something Miles found vastly relieving – and then into a stall. He slammed the door shut.

“Would you fucking stop and tell me what’s going on right now?”

“You really need me to explain it?” Alex made quick work of Miles’ belt. “I want you.” Then the button of his jeans. “Turns out you getting jealous is quite a turn on for me.” He roughed the shirt up. “Arms. Now.”

Miles raised his arms. “What happened to not doing it in stalls?”

“We’ve had our first time in a nice hotel room. That was for the memories. This one?” Alex undid his own pants and grinned. “This is about fucking!”

Miles, at last, got with the program. He clutched Alex’s shoulders, pushed him against the door and smiled into the show-stopping kiss he gave him. This was what he wanted! Uncomplicated, raw and passionate sex with Alex. All tension from earlier melted into the kiss and it became almost mad. They were groping and grabbing and clawing and rubbing and moaning. They were lost in their own little world. Miles leaned back, brushed a strand of hair from Alex’s forehead and rubbed their noses together. “My ass or yours?”

Alex pulled him in for another kiss, dragged his teeth along Miles’ lower lip. “Mine.” He spun around. “Show me that I’m yours! Show me that you’re mine!”

Sinking his lips to Alex’s neck, Miles sucked hard on the delicate skin. “Oh, babe…”

.

.

** Spoiler Chapter 15: **

#

“Anyway,” continued Penny, “if he managed to make you waltz with him, I’d like to meet him someday.”

“To do what?”

“To talk, son. As people are known to do.”

He bit his tongue. “To _talk_ about _what_ , precisely?”

“Your dancing skills would make a nice conversation starter, don’t you agree?”

#

“Those are much easier to put into place!” Miles put a gummy bear into Alex's belly button, grabbed his phone and snapped a picture. “There. I'll frame that one and place in my bedroom!”

“Oh, do it,” agreed Alex excitedly. “That's true art if ever there was that!” Besides finding the idea of his stomach, adorned by a gummy bear, framed and displayed in Miles' bedroom beyond hilarious, he also relished the thought of being permanently present in that room.

#


	15. Waltz In An Elevator

15

Early September 2018

They had gotten good at it. They had gotten good at 'just sex'. Technically, they had gotten really good at it! There was scarcely a night in which they didn't end up as two sweaty, boneless piles of satisfied flesh on Miles' bed. In the two weeks since leaving Rome and playing shows in Athens, Barcelona, and Madrid, they had fucked in so many ways that even Alex had to concede that he'd been a bloody saint in the days and years before Miles had entered his sex life.

He reached down and rubbed his thigh, bothered by the bit of pain he felt there. Last night, he and Miles had attempted shower sex. They'd slipped on the fancy mosaic tiles, wound up on the ground as a tangled mess and laughed so hard that the person in the room next to Miles' had felt it necessary to complain at the reception, which, in return, had prompted the hotel manager to knock on Miles' door, mortified, asking him to tone down his sexual activities.

After that, they hadn't been able to fuck any further. They had combusted in laughter whenever either one began to moan or groan.

Alex chuckled at the memory.

He wiped his sweaty forehead, vaguely bothered by the later summer’s heat, and frowned. Which Champagne would Miles prefer? _Duval Leroy_ or, rather, _Dom Pérignon_? Or something else entirely? Alex scratched his head as he let his eyes take inventory of the selection. Stuck in Madrid for another day, thanks to travel delays, he planned on spending the night serving Miles his desired drink directly from his belly button. He'd done a quick Google search to find out who sold Champagne, preferring to avoid having it listed on his hotel room bill since the bill went to the band's management and those were gossiping fuckers. And now he stood in a small fine foods shop across the hotel, racking his brain over the perfect bottle.

“Fancy running into you here.”

Alex tensed immediately. His brain kickstarted into overdrive, giving up on liquor and, instead, preparing reasonable excuses. “Hey, Jamie. What drives you here?”

“They got great gummy bears. You?” Jamie checked the aisle's assortment and grinned. “Got a private party planned, huh? Some nice bottle, some nice woman? Finally getting back into the game?”

“What…uh, no.”

 _Fuck_ , he thought. _Come on, brain! Do something! Give me something to work with!_

“You know, decided to do some shopping. My…uh…dad wanted me to bring back some fancy bottle of wine! That’s it. Something rare.”

“Oooh-kay? Didn’t know he was into wine. Need help?”

“Nope,” blurted Alex.

“Are you alright?”

“Totally!”

Jamie snorted. “ _Totally_ , huh? Well, in that case, don't let me stop you from buying fancy wine. I'll just leave you to it.”

“Do that.”

“I will,” professed Jamie, tossed an odd laugh his way, before wandering off to the register.

Alex wiped his face with both hands, groaning in frustration. Fucking great! He'd acted like a bloody fool! And not for the first time, either. Two days ago, he'd been on his way to Miles when he'd spotted Nick coming out of his lover's room. Nick, naturally, had, when he’d spotted him, immediately asked, as was a completely normal thing to do, what he'd been doing on that floor. Alex's room wasn't there, after all!

He'd made up an elaborate, sprawling lie about having gotten caught by a fan, then hiding on the stairs, and getting off on the wrong floor, searching for elevators. Nick had believed him, Alex assumed. Or, at least, hoped. But he no doubt considered him a moron, now! And Alex should have been able to reply with better excuses, shouldn't he?

Last week, in Athens, Matt had walked up to him as he'd paid for a colorful array of ribbed, dotted and flavored condoms. Matt had asked him who he was sleeping with and Alex, dumb fuck that he was, had stupidly replied, _nobody._ Matt had, understandably, been irritated. Something that wouldn't have happened if Alex had said something along the lines of _a groupie_ , _some chick you don't know_ or even a vague _somebody_.

Well.

At least the condoms had been worth it.

Very, _very_ worth it…

Alex shook the steamy memory from his head. He grabbed the _Duval_ and the _Dom_ and made his way to the register as well.

Wait. Gummy bears?

Miles liked gummy bears.

He asked the employee, not even bothering to use what little, wretched Spanish he spoke. “Where are your gummy bears?”

“That way,” motioned the middle-aged lady behind the counter, speaking a heavily accented English. “In the shelf by the chocolates.”

Alex took a look and was amazed. He definitely needed to tell Miles about it! They had sweets in all colors, shapes and flavors and Miles had a sweet tooth that put his own to shame! He grabbed a wild assortment and returned to the register. “That will be it for now.” He paid handsomely for the small bag of goods and happily made his way back to the hotel. He passed a few waiting fans by the main door, paused for pictures and even exchanged a few friendly words, then headed for the elevator.

That, he shouldn't have done, though.

When the doors chimed open, a dancing Miles Kane appeared in his line of sight, alone, facing the wall, headphones on and lost in music. He was clearly having a good time. Alex stepped inside, laughing, as he remained unnoticed. He kept watching as Miles shook his butt to a tune he couldn't decipher. Then his arms began to bounce, his head moved from side to side and, gradually, Miles twirled around.

Their eyes met.

Alex grinned. “Hi there.”

Miles' cheeks turned tomato red as all movements stopped. He swallowed. “Uh…hi.” He cleared his throat and removed the headphones. “How much of—”

Alex waved him off. “All of it. I saw all of it. And I must say, 10 points for effort, but you gotta work on those hips! They were a bit stiff.”

“They were not!” Miles glared at him in mock outrage. “They were swaying perfectly! I know, 'cause I took ballroom dancing lessons as a teen. I know how to move my hips!”

“Ballroom dancing?” Caught between amusement and intrigue, Alex stepped closer. “Waltz and all that?”

Miles stepped closer as well. He smiled. “Waltz, Foxtrot, and Rumba. Cha Cha, I tried and failed at. By the time the Swing was being taught, I was busy making out with my dance partner and missed the lessons.”

“You little Casanova!” Smiling widely, Alex held the bag with one hand as he settled the other one on Miles' shoulder. “Still know the steps? To the Waltz?”

Nodding slyly, Miles moved his hands in position. One below Alex's arm, on his back, and the other waited high in the air. Placing the bag down, not hesitating, Alex grabbed it.

“Imagine Strauss' _Blue Danube_ playing in background,” said Miles. He straightened up and tilted his chin up high. “I lead.”

Alex snorted. “This time.”

That mockingly puffed-up look slipped from his face in an instant and got replaced by a bashful laugh as Miles began to move, step by step and Alex fell into his pace easily. In the small confines of the elevator, carefully circling around the bag with the Champagne, Alex felt himself suddenly giddy and breathless. He'd never done something like this. Waltz in an elevator? Who did that? Crazy people! And yet, here he was, doing it and having the time of his life. “You dance very well!”

“Thank you, my lady!”

Alex’s smile got so wide he feared it’d leave permanent dimples. There was such joy and sparkle in Miles' eyes that he couldn't stop himself from getting lost in it all. They danced faster, moved rapidly. They dipped and twirled and spun around and then the door opened and Jamie Cook stared at them in sheer, unconstrained shock.

“Are you…what the hell are you doing?”

Miles, being Miles, shrugged coolly. “Waltz.”

Alex, blushing hard, let go of Miles as he dropped his head. “I lost a bet,” he blurted out. Jamie frowned and Miles gave him a blank look. “I couldn't name all _Beatles_ songs in chronological order and so I had to waltz with him.”

“In an elevator,” dead-panned Jamie.

“Precisely,” agreed Alex.

Jamie turned towards Miles. “Why would you make him waltz with you in an elevator?”

“Well, um…” Miles' eyes darted to Alex, who felt awful and guilty and entirely unable to help him in this moment 'cause his mind was unqualified. Empty. Offline.

“Stupid, I know,” said Miles eventually. “It was the most outrageous thing I could think of. I honestly didn't think he'd take the bet, let alone lose it. But you know me, a bet is a bet!”

“True,” conceded Jamie hesitantly.

“Learned my lesson,” murmured Alex. He grabbed his bag and all but ran out of the elevator. “Gotta hurry. Talk to you later.” On an afterthought, he paused and faced a still doubtful Jamie and a dangerously grinning Miles. “Can we keep this to ourselves? Thank you very much!” Then he was gone.

-

Two hours later, sitting on the bed, gaping, Alex stared at the phone in his hand and tried his best not to choke on his shock. He placed the device back to his ear. “Say that again, mother.”

“I’d appreciate it,” spoke Alex’s mother Penny, with firmness, “if you stopped calling me _mother_ and used kinder terms instead. Whatever happened to _mommy_?”

“Don’t get your hopes up! I only call you mother when I’m speechless. I’m speechless now! How on earth did you find out that I danced in an elevator?”

“From Matt’s mother. We met at the grocery store an hour ago.”

Jamie and his love for gossip! But he had to give it to his band! They could rival any news organization!

“The point remains,” Penny continued on. “I’d like to know who you danced with. That part seemed to be the most interesting and vague bit, and from what little I could gather from my conversation with Matt’s mom, it’s a curious information? So, I know that it wasn’t your ex, because she’s, well, your _ex_. Is there a new girl I should know about? You’ve scarcely told me about the last one!”

“The last one no longer matters,” declared Alex. And she was a bit of a sore topic, considering she was most likely the one starting the story about Alex’s song-writing fluke and, by extension, almost cost him his friendship with Miles.

Miles.

Alex crossed his legs and began. “It wasn’t a girl I danced with. It was a guy…” He proceeded to tell her the same bullshit he’d fed Jamie.

Penny needed a moment, then demanded clarification. “You and… _Miles_? Danced? A _waltz_ of all dances?”

“Bet, mother. I lost a bet.” He sighed heavily. “Besides, I thought you liked him?”

That, too, was a sore topic for him. One time, one single time, Miles had held the door open for his mother when they’d all attended the same event. Many, many years ago. But, ever since that sole interaction, his mother considered Miles the perfect gentleman.

She’d even gone as far and told Alex to take him as an example.

She’d told him when Miles had stood near enough to hear them.

She’d not seen the smugness on Miles’ face, and she hadn’t heard the little argument in which Miles and he had promptly tumbled into once she’d exited the scene.

“He’s a fine young gentleman,” his mother said, not denying it. Alex rolled his eyes. “I’m just surprised you’d dance with him. That’s all. The two of you always bicker. Like an old, married couple!”

He took offense. “We do not! We’re not married!”

Her heard her snort. She’d never snorted before. Not in his lifetime. “I know that, son! I like to think my only child would have invited me had he gotten married! That was just a figure of speech.”

Interestingly, her explanation was that and not an allusion to the fact that Miles was a guy. He took a deep breath. “Miles and I are friends now. For the sake of this tour.”

“You make nice for the sake of something. You don’t become friends for the sake of something. The latter part requires mutual affection of some kind. You’re friends now?”

Next time his mother would call, he’d tell her to hold until he could add his lawyer to the conversation. She was too smart for his liking. “So what? He’s not that bad. Turns out, he and I get along well.”

“Well enough to waltz in an elevator,” she remarked. “I’ve never heard of a similar or comparable moment of you and any of your other friends. I mean, there was that one time that you danced with Matt. Remember? You were kids and pretending to be the two girls from Abba?” He heard her laugh. “I still got a picture of that!”

“And remember how I threatened to withhold any possible grandchildren in case that picture or that story ever sees the light of day?”

She snorted again.

What a weird conversation this had become.

“Anyway,” Penny moved on, “if he managed to make you waltz with him, I’d like to meet him some day.”

Alarm bells began to ring in his head. “To do what?”

“To talk, son. As people are known to do.”

He bit his tongue. “To _talk_ about _what_ , precisely?”

“Your dancing skills would make a nice conversation starter, don’t you agree?”

He had a feeling she was enjoying herself. “We’re very busy at the moment. Touring and such. And then, once the tour is done, he–” His words halted. What would happen after tour? He’d never really considered the end of their arrangement. There had to be an end. It was inevitable. It was one thing to remain in contact, as friends did. Maybe they’d run into each other in London, just as they had done before the tour.

But would the nightly part of their activities continue?

How would that work?

Would Miles even care for that?

Then again, they’d done more than run into each other before leaving London, right? They had managed to meet up quite a few times. Almost daily. Continuing on would be doable, he presumed.

He didn’t like this idea of an ending. They’d just gotten good at whatever it was they were doing! Slowly, a kind of fluency began to emerge. Alex was learning how to be around Miles. He was beginning to understand his needs and not just the physical ones. He was adjusting and accepting that not everything could be forced into a certain shape.

Miles was a hugger. And he liked to snuggle. No rule in the world could stop that guy from reaching out and cuddling up against him. In the beginning, he’d tried to stop him. He’d left. He’d wiggled free. But every subsequent night, not even deliberately, Miles had done it again. A bit of touching here and there. A little afterglow in between. And, voila, back he was, curled up in Alex’s arms.

Now, he just let him.

Fighting it wasn’t worth it.

And, surprisingly, it wasn’t the worst feeling in the world. Actually, it did feel kind of nice. Warm and comfortable and that. Whatever. He could endure!

Besides, Miles, in return, had a real talent for knowing what Alex needed and when he needed it. When he’d had a bad day and craved exhaustion, he’d make sure the sex was wild and sweaty and he’d leave Alex so tired and sleepy that he was barely able to make it back into his room.

When his days were good, as most of these days were, astoundingly, and Alex was in no rush to go to sleep, they’d take their time. Miles would use the time between turns to talk and joke and be playful. They’d mess around, have the strangest discussions and laugh endlessly. Alex had never laughed this much in his life.

And every now and then, Alex found himself somewhat curled up against Miles’ arm.

Miles never mentioned it.

That was something else Alex was grateful for.

They were getting comfortable around each other. He’d never experienced that before. And he wanted to let it go on for a bit, to find out what came next. He was curious.

It was early September. Roughly two more months of touring. Then it would be time to say goodbye. That wasn’t enough time. He needed more than that.

“Once the tour is done? What then?”

His mother’s words ripped him out of his thoughts.

“We’ll see, okay? Maybe, when we’re back in London and he’s got time…”

“Tell him to make time,” Penny said.

Alex chuckled. “Mothe– _Mom_ , I have to go.”

“Next time you dance, remember: Straighten your back. You always hunch!”

He hung up. 

-

Around midnight, Alex made his way to Miles' door, bag in hand. He knocked once. A moment later, Miles opened.

“I wondered where you were. I worried you wouldn't show up at all tonight.”

“'Cause of the elevator thing? Don't be ridiculous. Why wouldn't I show up?” Yes, why indeed? Since Alex had only spent the entire afternoon hiding in his room, afraid of running into his band members and succumbing to embarrassment. “I fell asleep.”

Miles gaped. “Liar!”

Alex shook his head, startled. “What? No!” Yes, he did lie. He didn't sleep. He'd felt like an idiot and couldn't bring himself to knock on Miles' door and suggest kinky sex games after he'd left him hanging in the elevator.

“Yes!” Miles sharpened his focus and stared directly into his eyes. “Your left brow is twitching! It always twitches when you lie. I know, 'cause back in January, you told me you liked my birthday gift when, in fact, you hated it. Which, I might add, was the very reason I got it for you in the first place! And when you said it, your left brow twitched. Just like it did now!”

He had lied about the birthday gift. Miles had gotten him a gift certificate for Burger King. Alex hated Burger King. The food always left him stuck on the toilet for hours. Miles had somehow found out about that. But to spite him, Alex had taken them all, Miles included, to Burger Kind and had, inevitably, ended up being stuck on the toilet.

The peril of false pride.

“My brow does not twitch!”

“Oh, it does!”

“Does not!”

“It's twitching now!”

Alex's hand flew up to cover it. He scoffed. “Fine, I didn't fall asleep.”

Miles sat down on his couch, watching him. “Why are you embarrassed about the elevator thing?”

“'Cause people don't waltz in those. It's silly. It's okay if nobody sees us or whatever. But Jamie saw. And then…” He sighed heavily. “I made up that stupid bullshit about the bet and I left you to fend for yourself. Not exactly my finest moment. And word got out, too! Jamie told Matt, who told his mother, who told my mother, who called me…” Alex sat down as well and lowered his hand. His brow no longer twitched. “I don't know why, but whenever it involves you, I get flustered and I ramble.”

“I've noticed.” Miles smiled sweetly at him. “I think it's cute.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “I'm a multiple-instruments-playing, leather-jacket-wearing, versatile, talented, awarded, highly-regarded rock star, lyricist and – generally speaking – pretty cool guy. I'm not _cute_.”

Laughing hard, Miles disagreed. “You're insanely cute.”

“Miles!”

“Stop taking it as an insult! You also waltz remarkably well. You can add that to your list of reasons why you consider yourself above _cute_.” He placed his hand on Alex’s shoulder and nudged him backward, made him land flat on the couch, and crawled on top of him. “You are the cutest of the cute. And I find it fucking adorable that you don't hesitate for a second to waltz in an elevator with me, but blush profusely when you get caught buying condoms.”

“Matt told you? Bloody fucker! I can't trust anybody in this world,” he grumbled.

“Don't be mad at him, babe.”

Alex sneered. He kept his eyes averted, pretended to be mad and grumpy, but Miles was on top of him. And was placing tiny little kisses all over his chin and jaw. And whenever he did that, his eyes began to flutter. They were just as traitorous as his twitching brow and his easily flustered mind.

Miles slipped a hand underneath his shirt. Away went all pretense. Alex moaned as his half-assed look of disapproval dissolved and made room for a fully loaded look of delight. He wrapped his arms around him and spread his legs to offer him more room, giving him a not so subtle hint that Alex was at his fullest disposal.

Miles understood immediately. Lips went from his chin to his jaw, towards his neck, kissing all the right spots. Alex was squirming in no time, tugging on his shirt, wanting it gone. “Here’s a rule we should add to our ever-growing list.” As he said it, he was well aware that, next to expanding, the list was also ever more often ignored. “You should open the door in the nude. I mean, we’ve already established that I’m only one who gets to knock on your door this late at night. There’s no reason to drag out the predictable. Sooner or later, once I get here, you end up naked. It would save a lot of time.”

“Maybe,” whispered Miles, slowly dragging the tip of his tongue along that tiny spot where his earlobe began and his neck ended, “I like it when you undress me.”

Alex’s eyes rolled into the far back of his head as he clawed into Miles’ back. “You do?”

“Mmh,” hummed Miles. “I like it when you get all eager and pull on my clothes.” His lips suckled on his lobe. Alex shuddered. “I like it when you get annoyed and impatient trying to unbutton my shirts. And it really turns me on when you tear ‘em apart!”

Alex made a mental note to tear more of Miles’ shirts to shreds. It sure turned him on, too!

The little kisses stopped. “What's in the bag you brought?”

“Bag? What bag?”

“You one you brought with you?” Miles slipped his hands underneath the hem of Alex’s shirt and slid them up, brushing his thumbs across his nipples. His rough thumbpads dragged harshly over the sensitive skin. Alex’s cock whimpered keenly.

Then he recalled what he’d gotten and he’d come with every intention of using the goods! Using all of his strength, he pushed Miles off.

A vile curse slipped from Miles' lips. “Shouldn't have asked!”

“Tsk, tsk,” admonished Alex slyly. “So impatient! I got some gifts for you.”

Cursing no longer, Miles lit up. He sat closer as he curled his arm around Alex’s back. “Gifts?”

“Champagne,” said Alex, chuckling, pulling out the _Dom_ , then the _Duval_ , “and more Champagne!”

“Alex! The fancy stuff?” He bit his lip and tossed him a playfully shy look. “You must really like me, then.”

Alex flashed him a saucy smile. “You know…a little bit.” He winked. He reached into the bag again and pulled two bags of Madrid's finest handmade gummy bears. “Tadaaa!”

“Oh, wow! Mega!” Forgotten was the Champagne. And Alex, apparently. Miles let go of him as he grabbed the bags and tore one open.

He should have gotten the cheap shit and more gummy bears instead. Alex watched with a shaking head as Miles dug in and munched away. Laughter bubbled from him and he observed him finishing off half a bag in a minute at most. “Hungry?”

“For these? Always!” With a grin, he placed the sweets away. His hand curled around one of the bottles. “Hmm…I remember mentioning something about Champagne and belly buttons.” He grabbed Alex's hand and tugged him up swiftly. “I need you naked for that!”

Half an hour later, sprawled out on a wet mattress, into which roughly 300 Euros of golden liquor had sept, Alex could barely contain his laughter. The _Dom_ had come and gone. Miles was holding onto the _Duval_ now and carefully pouring it into Alex's navel.

“Stop laughing,” scolded Miles, despite doing the same. His tongue licked away the drops that spilled over.

Alex took a steadying breath, tried his hardest to remain motionless. But Miles' tongue was tickling his belly, his fingers were dancing distractingly over his skin and the bubbly liquid did its own part to cause mischief. “It looks much sexier in movies!”

“Right? And easier,” noted Miles. “Oh bloody hell!” He stopped pouring, took a hefty swig from the bottle and handed it to Alex. “Be right back!”

Alex took his own swig. Miles, naked and hard, moved through the room, searching for something particular, it seemed. Alex, meanwhile, watched with appreciation. Until he returned to the bed, then he shook with laughter.

“Those are much easier to put into place!” Miles put a gummy bear into Alex's belly button, grabbed his phone and snapped a picture. “There. I'll frame that one and place in my bedroom!”

“Oh, do it,” agreed Alex excitedly. “That's true art if ever there was that!” Besides finding the idea of his stomach, adorned by a gummy bear, framed and displayed in Miles' bedroom beyond hilarious, he also relished the thought of being permanently present in that room.

Huh.

There it was again, that unwelcome desire to remain in Miles' life beyond the span of this tour, beyond the boundaries of friendship and beyond the rules they had set to avoid exactly that.

A fierce grunt snapped Alex out of his thoughts. Miles rolled to his side, clutching his stomach. “Gummy bears and Champagne don't mix well.”

Alex propped his head on his hand, concerned. “Are you sure? You barely drank any Champagne.”

“Or,” murmured Miles, uncomfortable and a bit embarrassed, “the two burritos from lunch got angry at the company.”

Laughter again. “Oh, baby. Maybe we shouldn't have sex tonight. Maybe you should get some rest instead.” He fished the gummy bear from his belly button and ate it. Then he nudged Miles off towards the dry area of the mattress and reached for a sheet to cover him with. He touched a hand to his cheek. “Want a hot-water bottle for your stomach?”

Shaking his head, pouting, Miles rolled to his side. Winced. Then rolled back on his back. “Ooh. Ugh.” He groaned heavily. “Would you be mad if I took a quick nap? I'm sure I'll be fine in an hour. We can have sex then!”

He chuckled at that. “Nap ahead. Close your eyes.” He slipped out of the bed, put his jeans and shirt back on. “You need anything, you let me know, alright?”

“Mmh…kay.”

Alex killed the light in the bedroom before settling on the couch. He grabbed Miles' phone, unlocked it, and plugged the headphones in. As Miles drifted off to sleep, Alex pressed play on Joyce's _Ulysses_.

-

“Terribility…terribility…terribility…”

Alex jolted when he felt the earbud plugged from his ear. Jerking around, he discovered Miles behind him, wrapped up in his bedsheet, sporting a strange look on his face and a lingering white color around his nose. If it weren’t for the latter, he’d be mightily tempted to tug that sheet away and have some fun. Pulling the other bud from his ear, he offered a warm smile. “Morning. How are you feeling?”

“Much better. Why are you muttering _terribility_ again and again?” Miles leaned over the banister of his balcony, arm pressing against Alex’s. He lit himself a cigarette, took a drag and offered it to him.

Alex took it. Smiled. He handed Miles his phone back and shrugged. “Listened to your book. The word stuck with me. It might make a good lyric one day.”

“Did you stay awake all night, listening to it? I got it to help me fall asleep.”

“How can you fall asleep?” It stunned him. “It’s got a tremendous vocabulary; the sentence structures are insane and the way the words fall into place?”

Miles nodded. “Works better than warm milk.”

“You’re not listening right, then.” Alex took another drag from the cigarette before handing it back. “I’ll have to read it to you someday. I’ll make you like it.”

“Could have listened to it in bed, next to me. You didn’t have to stay on the couch.” Miles gazed at Madrid’s skyline as a vague smile settled on his lips.

Alex leaned next to him. He gazed out as well. Took in the busy hustle of a morning in Madrid. Cars were honking, people yelling, trains rustling. Much like London, only sunnier. As he did that, he replayed Miles’ words in his head, tried identifying signs of disappointment or traces of hurt feelings. But there were none. And he liked him that much more for it.

He liked that Miles never expected anything that Alex couldn’t give. And a small part of him even liked that he kept asking, kept suggesting staying the night. As if trying to coax him into doing it. Alex was tempted. More than ever. But while interest rose, did his fear did as well. “We have that rule about sleeping and such…”

Miles nodded. Bemused, he finished the last of the cigarette off and put it into the little ashtray near the banister. “Here’s the thing.” He edged closer, trailing a finger over the bare skin of Alex’s arm. “We didn’t get to have sex last night. And that’s neither my fault, nor your fault. Greater powers were at work.”

“Burritos, you mean.” Alex laughed, trying to mask how very affected he was by Miles’ little bit of teasing. And damn bedsheet that wrapped around him like an invitation for a stellar fuck didn’t help, either!

“At any rate,” he continued, amused, “we got cheated out of some pretty good sex. And I feel like we should cheat back and go and get it now.”

Turning around, leaning with his back against the balcony’s rail, he put his hands in his pockets. He couldn’t focus when Miles had his hands on him, or even just a fingertip. “We have to be all packed up and ready in an hour.” Alex lifted his gaze from the ground and glanced at Miles sideways. “See, if you and I break this very big, very important rule, I don’t think we should do it for a quickie. Wouldn’t you agree?” Tilting towards him, pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek, Alex smirked at Miles’ surprised expression and wondered if that was really what he’d intended to say. “I think we should keep the rule for now.” He straightened up. “See you in an hour. Glad you’re feeling better.”

.

.

** Spoiler Chapter 16:  **

#

He climbed into the tub with him, adjusted, let Miles get comfortable between his legs and wrapped his arms around him from behind. One curled around his middle, below the water, below Miles' arm, and one he draped around his shoulders, above the water and above Miles' other arm. Alex tucked his chin into the curve of Miles' neck and placed a sweet kiss to his jawline. “I just want to hold you. Will you let me?”

#

“You want me sweaty?” asked Miles, smirking.

“I want you in the locker room. With the doors unlocked.”

#


	16. Fool My Heart

16

Late September

Warsaw

Alex swung one leg over the other, crossed his arms, and chuckled. Katie, sitting next to him on a wooden bench near a row of half a dozen identical cross trainers and stair masters, smirked.

“Fifty bucks says Jamie will kick his ass!”

“Never.” Alex snorted arrogantly as he shook his head. “You know Miles. He’s fucking addicted to sports. He’s always boxing and shit.”

“I got faith in my man!” She waved her fingers at Jamie and winked. Her man smiled back. “He has put in some serious effort to get fit! Tell you what. Let’s make it more interesting. You and me, Team Miles and Team Jamie. Loser has to invite the gang for a huge, sprawling dinner at a very fancy restaurant, which the winner picks.”

“You got that much faith in your husband?” Alex did not doubt that Jamie was in good shape and could hold his own. But beating Miles? He’d seen his guy do sit-ups, squats and jumping jacks. He was insanely fit. Which, coincidentally, made for phenomenal sex. He lowered his gaze to the floor as images of last night filled his head.

Miles had taken him against the bathroom wall, hard and vigorously, until they had switched positions and Alex had taken over, relentlessly fucking him over the sink, right in front of the mirror, not breaking eye-contact once. Licking his lips, he shrugged. “Alright, I take that bet.”

Katie squealed.

Alex laughed.

They shook hands.

“Hey, boys?” She called over, making Miles and Jamie look her way. “Get ready. You have to do us a favor!”

“We should have asked them first,” Alex noted sheepishly. “Don’t you think?”

“Pff! They love to compete!” She got up. “Alex and I agreed to a little bet. We need you to demonstrate who is in better shape.” She bit her fingertip. “Shit, we really should have settled for details first! Uh…squats and running? That ought to do it. Let’s say a hundred squats first and then you run as fast as you can until the first one surrenders!”

Alex scoffed hard. “Katie! That’s torture!”

Jamie snorted haughtily. “That’s nothing!”

“Morning warm-up,” boasted Miles. He looked at Jamie. “Have fun losing!”

“Eat my dust!” He got in position. “Katie, start counting!”

“Go, love! Win for me!” She snapped her fingers. “AND GO!”

Jamie and Miles went at it like lunatics, squatting away as though they’d never done anything else.

Alex wasn’t opposed to working out. He boxed regularly, considered himself reasonably fit, and he knew he was in good shape. But that shit? He rolled his eyes. He already saw his own nightly activities disappearing. There was no way they’d have any power left at the end of this. However, as he watched Miles doing squats with the energy of a freaking superhero, he felt a certain amount of pride in his chest. _His_ guy was doing very well! “Go faster, _Kane_!” He deliberately used his last name. Appearances and all that. By now, word had gotten around that Miles and Alex were on friendly terms, vaguely speaking. The drama and the fighting had stopped, the band never once mentioned their arguments from the past and, in polite company, they conversed as grown-ups did, joking around included.

Once they were alone, of course, clothes were torn off and lips melted together.

Noting the increasing amount of sweat on Miles’ face, Alex kept going. “Good job, _Kane_. Keep it up! You’re doing great!”

“Go, Jamie!” Shot Katie, not willing to be outdone.

“Go, Miles!” Grinned Alex, not willing to lose.

Once they reached fifty, their legs must have started to feel heavy. Their earlier vigor had vanished as sweat dripped from their foreheads. Alex took a step closer. His eye on the price, his cheers got louder. “You’re five squats ahead, _Kane_. Stay focused! You can do it!”

Miles was breathing hard. The sound was slightly distracting. It reminded Alex of other deeds and he bit back the urge to stare at his perspiring physique. Too bad they had company. Alone with him, he’d have been very tempted to have a little lick and a bit of fun. Katie didn’t have that problem. She was married to her guy.

“Isn’t he hot? Go, baby!”

“He’s my guitarist,” Alex sneered, disgusted at the thought of Jamie’s sex life.

_Strange_ , thought Alex suddenly.

_Other men aren’t doing it for me._

Then again, at the moment, neither were other women. At the moment, it was just Miles. He glanced at Katie sideways. “Jamie doesn’t have a sex life. I’d prefer you don’t ruin that image for me.” 

She laughed. “He’s my husband, and believe me, playing guitar is not all that his fingers can do!”

“Stop, please!” He shuddered. “Nightmares!”

She stuck out her tongue.

Alex grumbled. “Go faster, _Kane_! Beat him!”

Next to him, Katie balled her fists as she cheered Jamie on. That woman had the competitive streak of a bullfighter! She’d be out there doing the squats herself if she saw any way of winning against Miles. But against him, she stood no chance. Alex whistled in encouragement. “I want us to win this!”

“Just twenty more, Jamie!”

“Just thirteen more, Miles!”

Two minutes later, Miles was done with the squats and jumped up the treadmill, running fast.

A minute after that, Jamie did the same. But he wasn’t quite as fast as Miles.

“Jamie, don’t stop now! Keep running!” Katie began to grow concerned.

Alex turned smug. “ _My_ man is beating _your_ man by a landslide!”

She gaped at him.

He crossed his arms and smirked. “Expect it to be a very expensive evening!”

They ran for five more minutes at a lightning speed. Miles was drenched in sweat, as was Jamie. Both were out of breath and panting. However, it was Jamie, who stopped first.

The second he conceded, Miles jumped off the treadmill and collapsed to the ground. “Won!” He spoke, barely audible, grasping for air.

Alex hurried over with a bottle of water and a fiercely pleased smile. “Well done, Miles! I’m proud of you! You won this thing for us!” He undid the bottle for him and placed it in his hands.

Miles sat up and smiled exhaustedly, finishing off the water without stopping for air. “What did I win, anyway?”

“Fancy dinner in Team Cook’s dime.”

“Ah.” He dropped to the ground, spread his legs and arms and tried to recover his breath.

Jamie, lying on the other side of the treadmill, just as powered out, lifted his head. “Not tonight, though. Wanna sleep tonight. So tired.”

“Sleep,” muttered Miles. “Sounds good. Let’s just sleep right here.”

“Good idea,” agreed Jamie.

-

Matt sat in the corner of the hotel bar's booth, texting away with his wife. Nick sat next to Alex, doing the same. Katie had cancelled. She had to take care of Jamie, who was so sore and exhausted that he could barely walk. Miles had also decided to be a no-show. He, too, was apparently suffering from sore-everything.

Alex sighed as he sipped on his wine. Even he felt all powered out, despite having done next to nothing all day. Maybe it was one of those times. Now and then, when they toured, there were bouts of complete and utter fatigue. Nobody cared to talk, nobody had any jokes to pass around, nobody wanted to go places, and everyone just wanted to sit in silence and recharge their batteries.

Only, as he let his eyes wander around the table, he realized that everyone had somebody to recharge with. Everyone, except him.

_Wait_.

He had one. _His_ somebody was up in a hotel room, suffering alone as well. And why? Well, Alex honestly couldn't tell. Why wasn't he with Miles right now? He didn't like it when things turned too relationship-ish, but he was not _just_ Miles' lover. He was also his friend, was he not? Just because the night had fallen, didn't mean that he had to stop being his friend, did it? And friends could hang out.

Alex got up. “Calling it a night, guys. See you tomorrow.”

Matt and Nick mumbled short goodbyes and Alex shook his head. He’d definitely be missed! As he made his way to the bar, something special caught his eye. “That bottle of _Domaine Leflaive_ , I'd like that. The whole bottle. And two glasses. Could you have that delivered to a room?”

“No problem, Sir.”

“Perfect.” Alex handed over his credit card. “What are the odds that you could organize a cheese pizza as well?”

“Just let me know the room number and I'll have everything delivered within fifteen minutes.”

“Room 414.” He tipped big. “Thank you very much.”

Alex made it up to his room, changed out of his trousers and button-down shirt and settled for his favorite frayed jeans and an old but comfortable white shirt instead. Vans and a leather jacket he put on as he made his way out.

He got to Miles' room before the wine and the pizza arrived and knocked while fidgeting with his hair, trying to get all of it to remain in its destined spots. “Miles, it's me. You still up?”

Nothing.

“Miles?”

Still nothing. Pressing his ear to the door, he tried to make out sounds. Silence answered.

He waited for room service to arrive. When it did, he straightened up and smiled his best smile. “Hey there.”

“Hello, Sir?”

“I ordered you. See, this is my friend's room. It's a surprise for him. Any chance you have a key and could maybe unlock this door?”

“I can't let you in.”

Alex fished out a 100-Euro note. “That's your final answer?”

The scrawny twenty-something guy with the ill-fitting uniform bit his lip. “You swear it's his room and he won't take it the wrong way?”

“I guarantee.”

He quickly swiped his key card. “Please don't tell anyone.”

“Not a word. Thank you.” Alex took the pizza and the bottle of wine, as well as the glasses, and slipped inside. The door fell shut. He walked noiselessly. Maybe Miles was asleep already. Only, the bed was empty. The door to the balcony, an extra that Miles insisted on, was shut and he could not hear his breathing either.

Then he spotted a dim ray of light from beneath the bathroom door. He went there, knocked and waited. “Miles? You're still alive?”

“Alex?” His voice was muffled.

“You need more time in there?”

“I'm taking a bath.”

Alex pushed the door open. There he was, in the tub, which was filled to the top with white soapy bubbles. His arms rested on the sides, his head leaned back, the top of his wet knees peaked out from between the surface and his gorgeous face was stricken with tiredness. Noting the look of absolute exhaustion on Miles’ features, he smiled ruefully. “How are you? Still sore, huh?”

“I blame you for all of this,” he whined. A pout tugged on his lips, too. “Next time you want to win something, you do the heavy lifting!”

He chuckled. He placed the pizza on the floor next to the tub and handed Miles a glass. “Here. Got us some fancy shit.” Placing his own glass on the tiles next to the pizza, he shrugged his jacket off, slipped out of his shoes and sat down. He uncorked the bottle and poured. Then he handed him a slice of sticky, hot cheese pizza. “For you. For the exceptionally fine heavy lifting that you did today. You kicked Jamie's ass! Should have seen Katie's shocked look.”

Miles smiled widely as his teeth sank into the food. “Ooh, this is good! I’m so hungry!”

Alex clinked their glasses together. He had a hunch that Miles cared more about the pizza than the victory. With a chuckle he picked up a slice as well.

“Hey, how'd you get in?” wondered Miles, a few bites later.

“Paid somebody to commit a crime,” he admitted cheekily.

“Alex!” Miles tsk-ed. “Bad!” A smirk appeared. “That eager to see me, huh?”

“For wine and pizza,” he clarified, not missing that ever-present flirtation in Miles’ voice. “I came as a friend. You told me you're in no way capable of fucking tonight. This isn't a boyfriend-sort-of-thing. It's a friends-thing.”

“Alright.” Miles still smirked.

Alex grinned as he shook his head. “Stop looking at me like that!”

“What?” He was smiling innocently now. “Fine. Just saying. I don't have that many friends who’d join me for fancy red wine and pizza while I’m naked in the tub.”

“Consider me a unique friend, then. And your other friends need to widen their horizon, 'cause they are truly missing out!” Naked Miles in a tub was a sight to see!

“Is that so?”

Miles licked his greasy fingertips, distracting Alex. He was tempted to do the licking for him and wondered, as he did often lately, where those kinky thoughts that he was entertaining these days were coming from.

With a raised brow Miles glanced at the box of pizza. “Can I have another one?”

Alex handed him a slice.

“Thank you. Should I make this a regular thing? Do you honestly want me to invite my other friends into my bathroom?” asked Miles with avid interest.

Damnit. He had him there! Alex took a sip from his wine, met Miles' eyes as he snuck a glance over the rim of the glass. “No,” he spoke. Quietly. “I don't.”

Their eyes held on to each other.

Naked Miles in a tub was _his_ sight to see.

Only his.

After a while of sharing some truly intense, forever hungry looks, Miles groaned uncomfortably as he shifted in the tub.

Alex cringed. “That bad, huh?”

He nodded, with a sense of humiliation. “Feel like I'm eighty or something. If that bit of exercise can knock me out like that, I really need to up my game! I texted Jamie earlier. He can barely walk. Feels as embarrassed as I do! It’s shameful!”

“You did a stupid number of squats and ran like a bloody idiot. It’s only natural that you feel like shit!”

“Thanks,” remarked Miles dryly. “That makes me feel so much better.”

Alex chortled. “You’re welcome. More wine?”

“Yes, please.”

He was bloody adorable, all pouty and worn out like that. Alex reached out, brushed a finger across his cheek. “Soap bubble.” What a nice excuse to touch him.

Had he ever seen Miles smile a sweeter smile? Alex placed his arm on the side of the tub, propped his head up. His gaze was on him, his attention was on his eyes. His unfathomably deep and madly intriguing eyes. Each time he looked into them, he felt himself sinking in further.

A bit like quicksand. Less deadly, but far more dangerous. Quicksand ended you. Miles, on the other hand, captured you instead. He reeled you in with his looks and smiles and dimples and then, when he had you at his mercy, he let go and, in a cruel twist of the game, left it to you to decide whether you wanted to stay or not.

As if ever anyone could leave.

Alex reached out again, gently touched his finger to the delicate skin beneath his left eye and brushed ever so softly over it. He scooted closer.

“More soap bubbles?” whispered Miles, lost in their moment.

Alex shook his head. He felt it when Miles took in an unsteady breath, felt the movement of his entire body beneath the small pad of his fingertip. Was it the contact that had caused it, or Alex’s wordless admission? He moved his finger again and, this time, Miles' eyes began to flutter.

It brought a smile to his lips.

Then Miles smiled. Big and open and filled to the brim with emotion. He was a vastly wide-open book. Alex could tell just by glimpsing that he was overjoyed by his little touches. He didn't even have to try hard or attempt to decipher or decode. All that Miles felt just lay there, bare, for him to see. He made no secret of it. He wore his heart on his sleeve.

Miles was happy.

And he was happy because of Alex.

Which, in return, elated Alex, because, somehow, he’d managed to make Miles happy.

Maybe it was the day, that omnipresent lack of energy to do something or, in this case, to resist something. Maybe it was the wine, or, maybe, it was Alex's deepest desire that made him do it. He got up and began to undress.

Miles blinked, undeniably enraptured by the display, but infinitely sorry about the facts. “You have no idea how much I want you,” he lamented, “but I swear, on my Gibson, that I can't do it tonight!”

Alex just chuckled. “It's okay.” He dropped his briefs, kicked them away. “Scoot forward. Make some room for me.”

“What are you doing?”

He climbed into the tub with him, adjusted, let Miles get comfortable between his legs and wrapped his arms around him from behind. One curled around his middle, below the water, below Miles' arm, and one he draped around his shoulders, above the water and above Miles' other arm. Alex tucked his chin into the curve of Miles' neck and placed a sweet kiss to his jawline. “I just want to hold you. Will you let me?”

Miles did. “I like it when you hold me.” He sank deeper into his embrace, let his eyes fall shut and didn't lose the smile of happiness.

He was going to hell for this. Alex knew. Or, rather, through hell. His heart began to melt. He felt it every time he looked at him. He tried so hard to fight it, tried to stop it and to deny it, but it was happening. And tonight, just for a few minutes, he wanted to experience what it was like to have him like this. Without boundaries. For a little bit, he just wanted to enjoy.

Every once in a while, he placed sweet little kisses against Miles’ cheek, and every time he did it, it brought forth a blissful look on Miles’ face. Below the waterline, Alex softly strummed his fingers along his stomach, caressing him ever so lovingly. And against his shoulder, Miles’ head rested calmly as soft puffs of air crashed against his own cheek.

“Are you sleeping?” Alex voice was a mere whisper. His hand wandered over his body, across his shoulder, his chest, then to the back, where his fingertips played with the short and damp tips of his hair. “You can if you like. I’ll hold on to you. I’ll keep your head above water.”

“I am growing tired,” confessed Miles sleepily. “Feels too good. Feels wonderful when you hold me.”

“Careful with your words.”

“Am I being too blunt?”

“No,” reassured Alex. If anything, he liked it very much that Miles didn’t hide his thoughts. “Too generous.” A small grin lit his face. “Don't waste all your superlatives just yet.” The tip of his chin rubbed teasingly along Miles' jawline. Sounds of two stubbles scratching against one another filled the humid air. “If you do, you got no words left to describe what I'm about to do next.”

A deep, content moan slipped from his throat. “Can't get better than this.”

“Yeah?” Alex pulled his arms away from him, ignored his grunt of protest, and settled his hands on his shoulders. He rubbed them tenderly for a moment, before digging in and massaging his sore muscles.

“Holy…fuck!”

A husky chuckle left Alex's throat. “That's what I thought.” He kept on kneading Miles' shoulders. Slow and steady, he tried to be gentle and yet wanted to be effective. His strong shoulders flexed and ticked underneath his fingertips.

Miles began to arch against him. His whole body moved in sync with Alex's touch. Now Alex's eyes drifted close as well. He had managed to keep his erection at a reasonable level but now, as Miles' ass moved ever so tantalizingly against it, he lost the fight. “Baby,” he pleaded, strained, “stop moving.”

“Can't,” husked Miles, sighing, moaning, driving Alex to insanity. “’tis fucking divine!”

He kept working on his shoulders, for as long as he could, but Miles settled on a rhythm and Alex whimpered in need. He lost focus and let his instincts take over. One hand went to Miles' middle and as he found him hard, so magnificently hard, he wrapped his fingers around him and stroked, up and down, up and down, up and down.

Miles raised himself, moved a hand between them and engulfed Alex's cock in his fist. He matched Alex’s pace.

They moved frantically. Desperately. Overwhelmed by need.

Alex's teeth sank into Miles' shoulder and he almost drew blood when Miles dug his other hand firmly into his thigh.

They moved faster. Harder. Lost their rhythm. Just wild movements.

Their bodies bucked against another as they came, splashing water everywhere.

Slowly, the air refilled with silence. Water dripped from the tub's edge. The floor was wet, now. The pizza was adorned with soap. As their breathing shallowed, Alex resumed his tight hold around Miles' body.

“You might have to wheel me on stage tomorrow,” joked Miles. “This did nothing to help!” 

Alex laughed. His nose pressed into Miles' wet hair. His lips brushed the shell of his ear. He could stay like this forever. And if he were a little braver, he might have done just that.

A loud yawn escaped Miles and he covered his mouth with a shade of mortification. “I think I have to go to bed soon.” A long pause. “Will you stay the night?”

“I can't. You know why. I've already stayed longer than I should have. But if you wish, I'll stay 'til you've fallen asleep.”

Miles groaned and grunted as he sat up. He carefully stretched his limbs. Then he turned and leaned in, sliding his lips ever so gently against Alex's. It was a slow and heady kiss, the dangerous kind. The kind that didn't end with sex but led to making love. Miles sat back. “Please don't do that.”

“Stay a little?”

“Fool my heart.” He kissed him again. Quick. Sweet. “Promise me. It's okay if you leave. I understand why you do. But if I ever I fall asleep in your arms, promise you'll wake me before you vanish. I have to know that you leave. Else I expect to wake up in your arms, and when you're not there, my day will begin with a grave disappointment. Promise me,” he said again.

His absence would be that to Miles? A grave disappointment? If it was that, what would his presence be, then? Alex took a deep breath. And nodded shakily. “Promise.”

Miles climbed carefully out of the tub and reached for the big towel nearby.

Alex remained inside the water. He watched with scarcely contained hunger as Miles rubbed himself dry. “You better be all fit and able again, soon.” He licked his lips appreciatively. “Ever since watching you work out this morning, I got this image in my head. Of you, in your work out gear, covered in sweat, out of breath.”

“You want me sweaty?” asked Miles, smirking.

“I want you in the locker room. With the doors unlocked.”

Miles inhaled sharply. He tried to speak, but words, evidently, failed him.

Alex got out of the tub, took the towel from Miles’s stunned hands and dapped his own face dry. Then he leaned in for a chaste kiss. “Did I shock you?”

“Shock?” Miles snapped out of that. And grinned. “You really think you're the only one with kinky fantasies?” It was Miles' turn to place a kiss to Alex's lips. “Here's one for you. I will have you in the middle of day, naked, on the balcony, legs spread, screaming my name while my tongue is doing such dirty things your ass that you won't be able to remember your name for days to come!” Another kiss. Miles reached for the robe and left the room. “Sweet dreams, babe!”

Alex, meanwhile, stood there, frozen in place, staring after him. It wasn’t so much the thought of what Miles’ tongue was capable of doing to his more than eager body that left him speechless, though he had a hunch that it would jaw-droppingly fantastic. It was the level of confidence with which he’d said, declared, rather, that they’d do it during the day. Like he had no doubt about it. Like the rule was destined to fall, sooner rather than later.

-

Katie stood next to Miles side-stage and Alex smirked at Jamie, who kept glancing at her, as he and the rest of the band took their bows in front of the Warsaw audience. “Feelin’ better? Heard you were quite sore.”

“Heard that, too,” grinned Nick. “Why’d you do something so stupid?”

Jamie shrugged. “Katie asked me?”

“Bloody whipped,” commented Nick as they left the stage.

Matt snorted. “Look who’s talking. You spent two weeks visiting every single jewelry shop in London not too long ago to find a single pendant for your wife’s necklace. Because she wanted it _so badly_ ,” he mocked.

“You guys are all whipped,” stated Alex, laughing.

“Why’d Miles do it?”

“To beat Jamie,” said Alex as they reached the side of the stage. “Which he did. Job well done, Miles!”

“What job?”

“Winning.”

“Oh, that. Piece of cake.” He chuckled. “Alex and I had a little chat. We’ve made a reservation at a fancy little restaurant very close to here.” He flung his arm over Alex’s shoulder.

Alex flung his arm over Miles’ shoulder, taking joy in the startled looks of those around them. “Steakhouse. The expensive kind. Prepare to pay up, Team Cook!”

“I’m not sure how I feel about the two of you joining forces,” said Nick. “It’s freaking me out.”

“Spooky, right?” Matt grimaced.

“Like the start of a horror movie,” said Jamie, taking Katie’s hand. “Let’s change and get out of here. Meet you in ten by the car?”

“Twenty,” groused Alex. “I want to shower.” His eyes covertly met Miles’. Then he walked off towards the dressing rooms.

Alex pulled his jeans up roughly and stepped out of the tiny little bathroom adjoined to his dressing room, mumbling some nasty curses. Had he been too subtle? He could have sworn that Miles had gotten his message. Twenty minutes. Shower. Hadn’t that implied, _clearly_ , that he’d wanted sex? They’d been surrounded by people so he couldn’t have said it any different! He blew out a breath and grabbed his shirt.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re fucking sexy all damp and grumpy like that?”

He found him sitting on his couch, legs crossed, dressed sharp in a suit. Alex glanced at his ripped jeans and frowned. He was probably underdressed. Not that he truly cared. “You decided to skip sex with me just to dress up?”

A snort from Miles. “Twenty minutes is not enough time for two people to change, get dressed _and_ have sex. At least not when the sex is intended to be good.”

“Remind me to teach you the joys of a quickie,” noted Alex gruffly. He walked over to him, placed his hand underneath Miles’ chin and tugged him up. “Kiss me. Now.”

Miles did with a smile. “I like it when you get bossy!” His hands went to Alex’s hips. He brought them against his ones and leaned in. Their lips met for the shortest second before he paused, to lean back. “How much time do we have left?”

“Five minutes maybe?” Alex’s lids were half-closed. His mouth hovered right in front of Miles’, lips puckered and ready. He wanted his kiss already. Damn him for wasting valuable kissing time to discuss his annoying obsession with time! “Miles! Kiss!”

With a cheeky grin, Miles spun Alex around, slipped his hand into his jeans and placed a succulent kiss to his neck. “Want it quick, huh?”

Alex gasped when Miles’ hand circled around his shaft. “Quick, slow,” he mumbled, “I don’t care. Forget dinner. It's late anyway. Let’s fuck instead.” He shivered when he felt him vibrating from laughter. His grip got firmer. Miles had him hard in no time, settling on a torturously intense rhythm then, and jerking him off with a striking finesse. Alex was moaning loudly, trying not to bite a fucking hole into his lip. “Shit, yes!”

“Fuck, babe!” Miles bit his lobe. “That’s it. Come for me!”

He was close. So very close. He spun around, grabbed Miles’ head and kissed him hard. Tongues dueled. Lips bruised each other. Squeezing his eyes shut, Alex gasped for air. “So close, so…”

Miles squatted down, pulled his jeans down and quickly took him in his mouth, sucking hard. Alex gripped his shoulders, wobbled on his legs. Hell, what a vision this was! Miles Fucking Kane, wearing a swanky suit, tie and all, was in here, in front of him, on his knees, sucking him off as though he was the most delicious thing in the world. Alex pushed his fingers into Miles’ hair. “I’m…mmh…about to…”

Instead of letting go, Miles sucked harder. Alex flew apart. He sank down once Miles had licked the last drop off of him.

Alex took his mouth in a rigorous kiss. “Thank you for that."

Smirking, Miles kissed him back. “You’re very welcome, babe!”

“You’re vibrating for me,” grinned Alex as he let up.

“My phone is!” Another chuckle. “Probably one of the guys, wondering where we are.”

“Not showing up tonight!”

“Tsk, Alex!” Miles got up as well. “ _We_ made the reservation! Come on. I’ll swear you won’t regret it!”

“Why?” He tossed him a pout. “Will you suck me off between dishes?”

“Oh, we’re back to being grumpy, ey?” He curled his fist into Alex’s shirt and hauled him in for another kiss. Fierce and wet and wicked. When it was done, Alex felt dizzy. Miles smiled. “Play nice. And in return, when we get back tonight…” He lowered his voice and nuzzled his neck. “You can use me in _any_ way you want.”

Eyes widened on Alex’s face. “Promise?”

“I’ll do _anything_ you want me to,” he agreed huskily.

Oh, the possibilities…

Not that Miles ever refused to anything that Alex suggested but getting such a provocative invitation still did wonders to his imagination. He quickly grabbed his shoes. “Let’s go. Come on. No loitering! We have plans later!”

.

.

** Spoiler Chapter **

#

When it was done, he still stared, eyes even wider. His own lips felt torched and he reached up, to touch Miles’ soft ones, to find if they, too, felt aflame.

Strikingly, they felt normal. Like lips. Miles kissed his fingertips.

Alex snapped out of his daze. “You quoted Romeo And Juliet.”

“You quoted it first.”

#

_What’s with this fucking day, huh?!_

Alex rolled his eyes hard. The one time that he wanted to break the rules, Miles was hellbent to following them!

_Un-fucking-believable!_

“Go then!”

“Alex,” tested Miles, “are you mad?”

“No. I’m hard.” He put it bluntly.

#


	17. An English Muffin

17

End of September

Alex sat on the plane, in his seat, by the window, staring out of it. There was a magnificent vista to marvel over. Clouds, endless, swimming below the plane, dipped in the hazy grays of the night. But even the sum total of it bored the last remnants of consciousness right out of him. Next to him, Matt was snoring, Jamie, sitting in the row before him was sleeping as well and Nick, sitting next to Jamie, was busy playing on his phone. Some game or other.

The seat next to Nick was empty and he was tempted to take it, in the hopes of maybe exchanging a few words with his bassist, on the off chance that would give the impression of time flying faster. But, as he considered getting up, somebody else already took the spot.

Victoria, Miles’ drummer, claimed the seat, phone in hand and Alex saw through the slit between the seats that they were comparing game scores.

Awesome.

_Wait!_

If she was sitting next to Nick, then the seat next to Miles was available!

Alex glanced across the plane, to Miles, who had his own seat by the window. His eyes were closed but he was wearing headphones and his legs, drawn up, moved ever so slightly.

He was awake.

Alex moved fast. He made his way across, checked over his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t caught the attention of too many Monkeys or Kane band members and sat down.

Miles opened one eye.

Alex grinned. “Hi.” He chuckled when the other eye flew up as well. Miles had an odd habit, when he was adrift in his own mind, to never open both eyes when disturbed. Only ever one. To see if opening the second one would be worth the effort.

Alex, apparently, was always worth the effort.

“What are you doing here?” Miles didn’t suppress the radiant smile that expressed his glee over Alex’s presence. “Somebody could see.”

“They are busy or asleep. Besides, we’re not making out or anything. Just talking. They’ve gotten used to us talking.”

“Too bad we’re not making out, though.” A devilish sparkle made its way to Miles’ face and he dipped his head towards Alex conspiratorially. “It is night. It’s what we should be doing right now.”

“Stupid night flight,” Alex commented. Grinning.

“Yes,” agreed Miles. A playful pout on his lips. “Stupid night flight.”

Alex shifted in his seat, adjusted, to get into a better position to talk with him. Miles had taken the headphones out and one dangled around his neck. He reached for it, played with it, then put it in and heard the eloquent words that made up James Joyce’s work. “Trying to fall asleep, huh?”

Miles pulled one leg beneath him as he sat sideways, fully facing Alex. He gently shook his head. “Listening for real this time. You got me all curious. I’m giving it a fair go.”

Alex was amazed. “You are?” He sat even closer, as much as the seat allowed it. “How do you find it?”

“A piece of work,” sighed Miles. “But it’s a very well written piece of work,” he conceded. “I have to concentrate a lot. You know, pay attention and all that. But I must admit that there’s a fine lyricism to it all and a remarkable prose.”

“There is,” agreed Alex, stunned to hear Miles say so.

Miles chuckled. “Didn’t think I could appreciate a nice book, huh?”

He’d never seen him read a book. And he had admitted to using it as hot milk replacement material. “Surprised, that’s all.”

“I do read. Most times, though, I lack the patience for it.” Miles shrugged. “I get distracted easily.” He pressed pause on his phone and put it away. “Which is a bad thing when you try to read. So, I only do it when I’m alone, at home, or in a hotel, without anyone or anything to get in between.”

Alex was the exact opposite. He could be in a craziest of surroundings. If he got a lost in a book, an earthquake couldn’t shake him out of it. His eyes landed on the blanket wedged between Miles’ seat and the window and when the latter noticed, he tugged it free and gave it to him.

“Are you cold?”

“Don’t know. Think so.” He felt shivery. Odd. But was he cold? He couldn’t even say. It was happening a lot, lately. Maybe he was catching a cold. He covered himself with the fabric and felt on the brink of shuddering when Miles placed half of it over his own legs, slipping his hands beneath. Looking up, gazing into his eyes, Alex found him wearing a look of boundless interest. Interest in him. Great! Now he felt warm, all of sudden. Trying to shake all that irritation off, he leaned the side of his head against the seat, attempting to relax and to distract himself from his own head. “Do you have a favorite book?”

“Not, like, a single one. I like different books for different reasons. Joyce, as I must admit, is a very talented writer and, obviously, a master of his craft. Don’t laugh, okay?” Miles, lowering his voice, leaned infinitesimally closer. “But I do like _Pride and Prejudice_ ,” he admitted, a bit embarrassed, biting the corner of his lip.

“You do?” Alex wasn’t laughing. He was transfixed. Mesmerized.

“It’s one of the world’s most famous love stories and I like that there’s not a single kiss in the entire novel. It doesn’t need a kiss. It’s all in the words. Read it only once, though. In school. Been a bit.”

Leaning closer, Alex was whispering now. “What else do you like?”

“Here’s a shocker for you. _The Guns of August_. Ever read that one?”

“The one about the war?” He shook his head. History wasn’t his favorite topic. He liked inspiring tales, good or bad. Just not the deadly ones.

“Haven’t read the whole book,” confessed Miles. “Just bits and pieces. Found it on a train once and got curious. But you have to give it a go. You’d love it. No doubt. Maybe not what the author tells, but how she tells it. Never came across anyone who could write in such a concise way. She picked the perfect words and arranged amazing sentences.”

He was going to order it as soon as they arrived at the hotel, decided Alex.

“Tell me about your favorite book,” said Miles.

“I must admit, I don’t remember if I have one or not. I’ve read so many. Lost count. But do like the plays. Old ones, especially. I like it when there’s a story hidden within another story. And I like the way people used to speak. They had such eloquence and cared for the right words.”

“Much like you do, in your songs.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “You think so?” What a striking compliment.

“I know I’ve made fun of your dictionary and your thesaurus, but you wield them well. _She was nothing but a vision trick under the warning light._ It’s one of my favorite lyrics of yours. And there are plenty.”

Underneath the blanket, Miles’ little finger brushed against Alex’s hand and for a moment, that small, insignificant touch managed to steal all of his breath, all at once. He blinked once, tried to make sense of his reaction. Tried to decipher if it was an accidental touch or one he himself had initiated.

When it happened again, it occurred to him that, maybe, Miles had initiated it. He looked up and found him staring at him, amused, yet also fascinated.

Then he felt Miles’ hand wrap around his own. Their heads inched closer together. Alex couldn’t say why. He wasn’t able to decide whether or not he was doing it on purpose or if it was just a gravitational thing. But he knew he liked it and it worried him greatly.

“We will land in Moscow soon.” Miles’ hand was still curled around his own. Not entwined. Just touching. Everywhere. “What will you do when we get to the hotel?”

“Sleep.”

“Hm. Here I thought you might like to join me for a run.”

A small, inexplicably breathless chuckle slipped from his throat. “If you had suggested breakfast or something, I’d have said yes. But running? I mean, I like you, but…”

“Not enough to go for a run,” grinned Miles.

He shook his head. The movement brought their heads yet another increment closer. Was that sweat building on his neck? Alex wondered. Miles’ hot breath was making him regret ever going for the blanket. But if he got rid of it now, he’d have to let go of Miles’ hand as well. Otherwise, somebody might see them holding hands. As he weighed that dilemma, he felt his fingers being squeezed.

His eyes went from there, to Miles’.

And then, just like that, Miles kissed him.

Brief. Fast. It scarcely lasted a second. Likely even less than half. But their lips had touched. In public. On a plane.

“You’re smiling,” noted Miles, his voice filled with incredulity, smiling timidly himself.

Alex’s hand flew to his lips. He touched his mouth. “I am,” he found. How abnormal this entire situation began to feel. He had to touch his face to figure out if he was deciphering his own senses accordingly?

“Does that mean you’re not mad I just did that?”

“I don’t suppose I am.” He laughed at his own reply. But, he felt weirdly out of it, at the moment. Confused. Startled. Caught off guard. No longer in control of everything. “Why did you do it?”

The smallest shrug rolled from Miles’ shoulders. “Had to?” His eyes dropped to the blanket where, approximately, their hands rested beneath the fabric. “Your lips, they were so close. So tempting.” He looked at him again. “It’s really no excuse to just—”

Alex kissed him. Just as quickly. For just as short an amount of time. Just as innocently. If he had a lifetime, Alex couldn’t explain why he’d just done that. “You’re smiling,” he whispered.

“I am.”

He couldn’t look away from him. He was unendingly interested in everything there was to know about him. Even the things that happened long ago still busied his mind. He wanted to know it all. Wanted to know why he did things, why he felt certain ways and what his motivations were.

He wanted to know why he’d become a musician, why he played the guitar and what it was that drew him to songwriting. He wanted to know his favorite _Beatles_ song. He wanted to know all the every-day things. He wanted to know what his favorite chocolate was. How he liked his coffee in the morning. What song he loved to sing in the shower. And he wanted to know all the silly and unimportant things. What his favorite cartoon was. His favorite bubblegum. What socks he liked.

Out of nowhere, a memory popped up in his mind. “Miles? Remember our big fight? I mean, do you remember when we spoke in the ballroom that day when I saw you with the guitar?”

“I do.”

“You said you got the guitar to provoke me. Only, when I got there, it seemed like you no longer cared for that. Or, just barely.”

Miles looked down, to the blanket, absentmindedly. “What makes you ask now?”

“I got a weird mind. Sometimes, stuff like that just comes to me and – you know, we’re friends now and I can ask. I like understanding things.”

He gave a faint nod. “I ran into somebody that day. Somebody…an ex-girlfriend. I had dated her a few years earlier and she had left me. It wasn’t a good break-up. I don’t suppose there ever is one, but that one was hard.”

“Was she the one—” Alex hesitated.

“The one…?” asked Miles. “What?”

“I heard somebody made a move on Jamie. Someone you used to date.”

“You know that?”

“I found out recently. Kind of by accident.”

“Doesn’t matter now, does it?” Miles looked at him again. “Happened long ago. And yes, she’s the one. She stayed at the hotel around the time of the party, back then. I was in the lobby and she got out of the elevator and there we were. I wasn’t prepared to see her again. I mean, I was over her then. Anyway, we talked a few words. She was with some rich business guy and didn’t hide the fact that she was with him for his money.”

Alex clung to Miles’ facial expressions, trying hard to discover signs of lingering hurt or other telltale emotions, but there was just regret. Nothing more and nothing less. 

“When I met her, I fell for her because she was brutally honest and completely aware of herself. She stunned me. She was fearsome, almost. Until she told me she saw herself with somebody who could afford her lifestyle. Back in the hotel, she told me she liked me, like genuinely, and if I wanted to, we could rekindle our spark or something like that, but that it would never be more than an affair. I said no and mumbled something lame and left. It was all very awkward and confusing. Threw me for a loop. I went to the ballroom and you walked in.”

“And later that night, I called you a failure,” remembered Alex regretfully. He felt worse now than he’d felt back then. “How much you must have hated me at that moment.”

“Alex, what I said to you was just as bad. I didn’t hate you. It was…not a good moment for us to get into a fight.”

“Like a perfect storm,” he mused.

Miles nodded. “Seeing her again brought back all those old feelings of being rejected. And there was a moment when I thought, the old Miles, the guy she left, he might have said _yes_ to her offer. And that thought disgusted me.”

“You’re saying she changed you?”

“I wasn’t very selective about the people I allowed into my life. I was happy about everyone who wanted to spend time with me. I still like to meet new people and to hang out and talk and all that. But, it takes me a lot of time to really let somebody in.”

He knew that feeling. Constantly questioning people’s motives, forever looking for clues of betrayal. He hated that part about himself and yet, it seemed to be the hardest one to get rid of.

As he found himself sinking into the depths of Miles’ gaze, Alex realized that he no longer expected betrayal from him. On the contrary. With Miles, he felt safe. Probably because they were brutally honest with each other. And because he’d learned his lesson the hard way.

“I think our friendship began that night. In the cab.”

Chuckling as he remembered that night, Miles looked at Alex with a wide smile. “I think the cab driver called us idiots.”

Alex recalled that. He laughed, touched Miles’ arm with his free hand. “He did!” A pause. “Even though we were always fighting and shit like that, you’re somehow still the only person I’ve ever been completely honest with. How is that?”

“Maybe,” suggested Miles musingly, “we were always meant to become friends. Maybe we just messed it up somehow. Needed longer.”

Alex, once more, became aware of their linked hands. He smiled softly. “Do you believe in that? In destiny?”

“Don’t know. But wouldn’t it be nice if something like that existed? Soulmates and all that?”

“It would be,” whispered Alex. As he gazed at him, his focus fell from Miles' effervescent eyes to his fine, soft lips and his mind lingered on the idea of it all. To be meant for one person and to realize that? It would surely require a lot of trust in one’s own heart. It would require a talent for reading one’s own feelings. Alex wasn’t sure he had that in him. His sight landed on the little monitor in front of him. “We’ll be landing any minute now. I should return to my seat.”

“Okay.”

Their hands slipped apart and, in a bizarre turn of events that vexed Alex greatly, he suddenly felt chilly again. Thoughts torn between this and Miles’ lips, which should be on his at this time of night, he got up and all but tiptoed back to his seat, slipping back in. When he did that, Matt stirred next to him.

“‘lex?” He murmured sleepily. “You okay? Ye’look weird.”

“Think I’m catching a cold. Don’t know.”

“W’tever.” Matt closed his eyes again.

“Yes,” agreed Alex. “Whatever.” Whatever was going on with him?

Strange, all of it.

-

His stomach was rumbling and there was absolutely nothing that he could do about it. Alex kicked his socks off, pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it away. They had arrived here an hour ago. He’d taken the time since to unpack, to have a smoke. Rather, three. And he’d wandered down to the café for something to eat. It had been closed. The buffet wasn’t open yet, either, since it was barely morning. Room service he couldn’t order, since that would require a clear decision about what, precisely, he wanted to eat and he did not know that. He only knew that he’d like something edible. He was all out of chocolate and the damned minibar held no sweets whatsoever.

_Who the hell had picked this hotel, huh?_

Maybe he should make it a requirement that his minibars always, _always_ needed to be stocked with a solid selection of cookies and biscuits. Who needed three bottles of orange juice anyway?

Sighing, he reached for the button of his jeans, ready for some much-needed sleep when somebody knocked on his door.

“You better be a nice chocolate cookie,” muttered Alex. He pulled the door open.

“It’s six twenty-three a.m.!”

“I see you’re wearing your watch again!” Alex chuckled as he opened the room to let Miles enter. Next to his watch, he was also wearing running tights, a shirt and an unzipped jacket. And his right hand held on to a small paper bag that had the image of a bread printed onto it.

Alex’s mouth began to water. “Is that food?”

Miles frowned, looked to where Alex was looking, and shrugged. “Yeah.” He put the bag on the small table near the door as he walked inside. His hands went to Alex’s waist, roughly pulling his attention away from the edible object.

Being made to walk backward by Miles, laughter bubbled from his lips. “What’s happening right now?” Miles’ hands were cold, and Alex was shirtless. The chill returned to him. “What are you doing?”

Grinning, Miles spun him around in front of a large window and curled both arms around him from behind. “See that? Day is about to begin.” His lips placed a lingering kiss to the outline of his jawbone, making him shiver. “Only two more minutes before the sun rises. I want a kiss.”

Alex twisted inside Miles’ embrace and smiled widely. “Have it, then.” He met his lips hungrily. He tasted of coffee and muffins and Alex tried to lick that delicious flavor right off Miles’ tongue as the kiss became steamier by the second. Moaning filled the air and he fisted Miles’ sweaty shirt tightly, rubbing the entire length of his own body against that of his, loving that feeling of complete contact. Arousal was beginning to take a hold on him, and he was so bloody tempted to ask him to stay, but before he could even begin to form a sentence in his head, Miles let go of his lips. He touched their foreheads together.

“Sunrise. I must relinquish your lips now.”

“You must,” hushed Alex. Did he state it, or ask, he wondered. He was no longer sure he liked their rule. No, he hated that rule. No point in lying to one’s self. He wanted him. He wanted his warm and firm and hot body all over him, doing the dirtiest of deeds. Moving closer into Miles’ arms, he placed his lips against his lover’s neck and kissed him there.

“Alex,” breathed Miles, protesting meekly. “Stop.”

Stop, he did.

He let go and faced back out the window, exhaling loudly.

“Are you alright?” asked Miles.

“Yes. I’m just tired. And hungry.”

_And fundamentally annoyed by my own insecurities._

From behind, Miles took hold of both of his hands and leaned into the curve of his shoulder. He placed a chaste little peck to his skin and lingered. “Rest, then. I’ll leave now.”

That wasn’t at all what Alex wanted. “Then, window, let day in, and let life out.” Sometimes, Shakespeare said it best, after all.

Miles laughed softly. His breath crashed ever so teasingly against his ear. “Farewell, farewell. One kiss, and I’ll descend.”

Alex whipped around, stared, wide-eyed. As he tried to speak, though, Miles grabbed his hips, went for his lips and kissed him so ravenously that he had to take a step back from the sheer force of it. When it was done, he still stared, eyes even wider. His own lips felt torched and he reached up, to touch Miles’ soft ones, to find if they, too, felt aflame.

Strikingly, they felt normal. Like lips. Miles kissed his fingertips.

Alex snapped out of his daze. “You quoted _Romeo And Juliet_.”

“You quoted it first.” Miles flashed him a sly smirk and took a step back, bowing gracefully. “Played Romeo in a school play once. Still remember some of it. Sleep well.” On his way out, he tapped his finger to the small paper bag he’d placed on the little table by the door. “English muffin for you. See you later.” The door closed. He was gone.

Alex took a step to his right, to the chair, and dropped into it. “Fuck.”

-

It had to be the day. Something was off about it, somehow. Nothing was as it was supposed to be. He was tired to the very core of his bones, but he couldn’t sleep. He’d been stomach-roaringly hungry earlier, but he’d spent fifteen minutes eying the bloody paper-bag-engulfed English muffin as though it was a ticking atomic bomb. He’d been strict, firm and unyielding about his rules regarding his sex-life with Miles, but his little visit from earlier had him on the verge of bursting into his room and fucking tying him to the bed for his personal pleasure!

Alex wiggled his leg wildly as he sat in the lobby of the hotel. He and the band had just returned from a trip to the concert arena, had done a badly insufficient and embarrassingly lazy rehearsal, and now, as he waited for his coffee to arrive, he felt like a lion in the zoo. “What’s with you? Why do you keep staring at me like that? And what’s with all the bloody whispering I’ve seen you do? Are you trying to oust me from the band, or what?”

It was a joke, obviously, but given the day, he wouldn’t be shocked if the answer was _yes_.

Matt scoffed as Jamie averted his eyes and Nick busied himself with his phone. “Fuckers,” he muttered. He turned to Alex. “Don’t worry. It’s all good. It’s just…”

Alex leaned forward. “Just what?”

Matt gnawed on his lip. “Uh…”

“Rumor,” shot Jamie out of nowhere.

“Yes,” agreed Nick, also entering the discussion.

“Right,” agreed Matt. “Rumor!”

“What rumor?”

“What rumor…right, er…the one…” Matt, again.

Nick took over. “We didn’t know how to ask, since it’s all ridiculous, truly.”

“Yes…?” Patience was not Alex’s strong suit.

Jamie continued. “Nipple piercing.”

Dropping his face into his hands, Alex shook his head. “Fellas, somebody make some sense. Please.”

Matt and Nick, as Alex did, watched Jamie, who began to fidget. “There’s a rumor. On the internet! Yes, there! Uh…did you get a nipple piercing?”

Alex blinked. “Did I what?” As he considered between rolling his eyes and laughing out loud, he once again saw the three of them exchanging odd looks amongst another. “Okay! Enough of this shit!” The wiggling of his leg stopped. He sat forward, both feet placed firmly on the ground and he folded his hands, ready to deliver some facts. “I did not get my nipples pierced. Not even one. You are freaking me out, today. And this day began by being weird as fuck, so you’re making it that much worse! I’ll take my coffee up to my room, where I will remain for the rest of the day to try and maybe get some rest. And then, tonight, when we go for dinner, I’d appreciate it if you stopped acting all loony. How about it?”

“Sounds good,” agreed Matt, apparently speaking for everyone.

“Good,” nodded Alex. He saw the waiter arrive with his beverage. He got up, took it out of his hands, tipped politely, and headed for the elevator. “Nipple piercing?” He shook his head. The world was going crazy!

-

The big monstrosity of a plant in the corner of his room had an astounding number of leaves. Two-hundred and forty-one to be precise. Tiny little lime green leaves.

He had a habit of counting things when he couldn’t fall asleep.

Someone knocked on his door.

_Hallelujah_!

He’d never jumped up this fast, to open the door for somebody whose identity he didn’t know, only to avoid having to count anything else. He ripped the door open. “Miles?” That was a surprise. “I thought you’re at the arena, sound-check and all that?”

“Finished early. See, we’re opening for this really cocky rock band that only needed half an hour to rehearse a two-hour set, which meant we could start a lot earlier than we’d planned.”

He looked away, sheepish. “I know, we were lazy today.”

“That’s a new one,” remarked Miles, lingering in the doorway.

“You can enter, you know? I don’t bite.”

“Not when the sun is up.”

A wide and uncontrollable smile flew to his lips and Alex chuckled. “Just once.”

They just stood there, grinning.

“Did you come for a reason?” asked Alex, after a while.

He let go of the door’s frame. “Yes.” Taking a step towards him, Miles nudged to door shut. “I have his tune in my head. Had it there for a while now. But I was in the middle of sound-check and something clicked, and the entire song fell into place. And now I almost have it all. The words, the notes, the arrangement…”

“What’s missing, then? Maybe I can help.”

“I’m counting on that.” He took another step towards him.

Alex felt that familiar heat retake its grip on his body.

“I’m this close to falling asleep,” whispered Miles, leaning closer. “And I need something to keep me awake.”

“What would that be?” asked Alex, his voice husky.

“A kiss might do the trick. I know it’s not our time. The sun’s too bright to be ignored. But, consider, these are extraordinary circumstances. An entire song depends on your generosity. So, if you could find it in you to do me this very small favor, just this once…”

“A single kiss?” Alex bit his fingertip, playfully, pretending to hesitate.

“Just one.”

“It would be for a good cause,” he acknowledged.

Miles nodded. “It would be greatly appreciated!”

A second passed.

Then they were kissing. Wildly. Alex had him pressed to the door, holding his arms up, over his head, with one hand. The other one was flat against his stomach. His tongue licked deeply, hungrily into Miles’ mouth, drawing a fierce grunt from him. He couldn’t stop kissing him, not when he’d been dying since the fucking plane ride to have his way with him.

Screw the rules. Screw all of them. His hand slipped beneath the shirt, to his belt.

Miles tore his lips away. “No! No! Stop!”

This time, Alex kept going. “Why?”

“Rules,” croaked Miles. “And, also…” He broke out of his hold. “My song. I have to write it down. Don’t want to forget it.”

_What’s with this fucking day, huh?!_

Alex rolled his eyes hard. The one time that he wanted to break the rules, Miles was hellbent to following them!

_Un-fucking-believable!_

“You knocked on my door!”

“For a kiss,” Miles pointed out.

“Well, you got one. Go then.”

“Alex,” tested Miles, “are you mad?”

“No. I’m hard.” He put it bluntly. “I’m horny, I’m frustrated, I’m a million things right now. I’m not mad, rest assured. None of this is your fault. But you need to leave, lest you want me to tear your clothes off!”

With unsteady, hesitant hands, Miles reached behind him and grabbed the handle. “I’ll leave then. I must! The song…”

“Leave!”

He left.

“AAARRGH!”

He checked the time.

Thirteen thirty-one.

_Fucking perfect._

Almost half of the day left.

-

An hour and a half, one-hundred and seventy-two bathroom tiles and one cold shower later, Alex gave up trying. He knocked furiously on Miles’ door. How long did it take to write down a song that he’d finished in his head already, anyway? Minutes, maybe. He could have written it down in Alex’s room. He could have written it down on a bloody napkin or whatever!

And why the fuck hadn’t Miles returned once he’d completed writing down his song?

Huh?!

He felt a little insulted.

Here he was, ready and available, and Miles had no problems at all resisting him? How the hell was that possible?

“Miles?!” He knocked again, impatiently.

The door flung open.

“Alex? Sorry, I was listening to the book!”

He snorted. Replaced by James Joyce! “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“What?” He asked, wide-eyed.

“Are we…like, done or something?” Alex stared at him in disbelief. “‘Cause I could have sworn you had some sort of attraction for me. But here I am, basically offering myself to you, and you’re not taking the bloody bite! Has our spark gone dark? Am I no longer doing it for you?”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, Miles!” Alex pushed passed him, into his room. Drinking. He should have done that, instead of counting fucking ugly bathroom tiles! Pacing the room, he rambled on. “It’s this day. I don’t know what it is, exactly. Probably my lack of sleep! I like order. To an extent. At night, we fuck. Then I sleep. The day resets. I start over. But we didn’t fuck last night. Damn travel and all that. Then you brought me a muffin!” That one really did a number on him! “I was the one who was lazy during rehearsal, and I’ve never been that in my entire life! Something is going on with the band. Apparently, I got my nipples pierced and everyone except me knows about that! You kissed me at noon. Usually, you ask me to stay the night. But I always leave. Because of the rules. Today, though, everything is fucked up and different and I end up being the one offering to break the rules and you’re not even interested!”

Miles, bless him, just stood there, calm, with a soft smile. “I know how serious you are about the rules. I didn’t return or take you up on that because I don’t want you to regret it.” He lowered his gaze to the floor. “I don’t want you to regret being with me.”

Alex was floored. “I’d never regret being with you!”

“No?”

He shook his head. He’d stopped pacing. “No!”

The soft look drifted from Miles’ face as his eyes glazed over with a sultry layer of darkness. “So…” He raised his brow invitingly

Alex licked his lips. “Fuck, yes!”

Within a split second, Miles’ lips were on his. They were kissing with a hunger that completely staggered him. They were tearing at other’s clothes, fumbling almost helplessly, like wild animals, overcome by overpowering urges. When Miles’ shirt refused to obey to Alex’s demands, he ripped it apart.

Miles grinned at the sad remains of it. “I liked that one.”

“I’ll buy you a million new ones,” breathed Alex, grinning as well. Now that he had hands on him, slowly, his world began to make sense again. His restlessness made room for a more deliberate haste. He threw his arms up and allowed himself to be stripped bare.

“Feels so strange to have you during the day,” murmured Miles, going for a quick kiss before opening Alex’s pants.

“Close your eyes and imagine it’s the moon that’s lighting the sky,” whispered Alex. His fingers got lost in Miles’ hair and he pulled him closer, experiencing a veritable need to touch him.

“No.” Miles left wet and searing kisses all over him. “I want you in the sun. I want you in the bright light of day. When I can see every little detail of your body. Every majestic part.”

Alex dropped his pants, jerked his briefs down and for a moment just let him watch. How he relished being seen by Miles. He saw him differently than the rest of the world. He made him feel at ease and confident and desired in a way he’d never known before. Miles saw his flaws. And he liked him for those. He jumped up and dropped back into the mattress, bouncing by the force of the impact. “Have me. Have me right now. Right this fucking second!”

Miles, equally naked by now, jumped on top of him. He laughed, roared like a lion, and made Alex laugh as well. Then they were kissing again, rolling around, groping, rubbing, endlessly lost in each other.

.

.

** Spoiler Chapter Ch. 18: **

#

“This is insane! Somebody could find us!”

“True,” agreed Alex. He unzipped Miles’ jeans and licked his lips. A smoldering look of desire settled on his face as he leaned in. “Last chance. Yes or no?”

No! Sex in a public area? It was bloody crazy! Only, when he opened his mouth to speak, Alex all but fucked him with his eyes and Miles got lost in his lust for him as he always did. “Yes!”

_Shit!_

#

Miles blinked a few times. “What the hell?”

“Just letting the waiter know you’re mine. Would be rude to leave him with his hopes up.”

Damn him, thought Miles. His heart skipped an entire song’s worth of beats. He dipped his head forward, put his lips to Alex’s neck and kissed him there. “Yours alone,” he stated.

#


	18. Another Rule Bites The Dust

The Russian Air was cold and carried a hint of ice with it, despite the fact that it was merely fall and Miles was nowhere near ready for winter to hit. But the sun shone brightly and as its rays drifted through the large window, bathing him and Alex in a warm, golden light, Miles felt completely and utterly content. He was so tired that he was sure he'd be able to sleep for a week straight, but he couldn't fall asleep. And that didn't bother him. Not one bit. He was okay with that. Because, next to him, lay Alex. 

His Alex. 

Miles rolled to his side and flung an arm over Alex's nude body, drawing a grin from his lips. “So…is this a precedent? Daytime sex?” He already knew the answer, but he liked asking the question. Just as he liked asking him to stay the nights, knowing he'd never agree to it. It wasn't a _yes_ that he counted on. Or even hoped to hear. 

No. 

Okay, fine. He wanted to hear a _yes_. 

But he asked just to hear him say _no_. 

His refusals were what he waited for, every night. 

They were the mark that gave away how far away Alex had fallen from his convictions. 

In the beginning, Alex had been very strict. He'd pull away from Miles' touches, look away from his gazes and expressed shortly that, no, he could not stay, and, if he explained himself at all, he'd make a quick allusion to their agreed-upon rules before vanishing out of the room. 

Now? These days, he stumbled over his words. He got tied up in his own arguments. He lost himself in long-winded elaborations as if trying to remind himself, more than Miles. He'd inform him of all the dangers that sleep carried with it. He'd elaborate on his motives and he'd spent a ridiculous amount of time on selecting the perfect words. 

Miles had been tempted to make a dictionary-joke on more than one occasion. 

Alex let his face fall to the side and met Miles' eyes. “I'd like to think that this was just an exception.” 

“But,” whispered Miles, smirking as he leaned closer to place tiny little kisses on Alex's cheek. “You know better than that, right? You know you're hopelessly addicted to me and that twelve hours of sunlight, roughly speaking, are too long a time to spend without my lips on yours?” 

Laughing, Alex curled one hand around his neck and stilled his movements. “Just for that, I'm tempted to prove you wrong.” 

Miles rolled on top of him. “Do it.” He leaned in, let the tip of his tongue trace his lower lip. And even though he'd begun this little game of theirs as a means to tease him, to amuse him, to amuse himself, as he got lost in wickedness of Alex's mouth, all playfulness evaporated. Only the truth remained. “Try and resist me.” Lips met again. “And then teach me how you to do it,” he hushed, “for I don't know how to resist you.” 

No longer laughing, Alex kissed him back with desperate intensity. “Neither can I.” 

“About our rule—” 

“Not right now.” 

They were entangled in each other in no time. Miles was on top of him and fumbled to get a hold of a condom, which was on the nightstand. But his attempt at multitasking, this time, proved to be a hard task. Alex was squirming beneath him, driving him to insanity by rubbing his cock against him. And not just that, Miles also had his focus elsewhere. 

His tongue swirled around Alex's right nipple repeatedly, and once his tongue ceased to flirt, his fingertip took over and traced the wet area. 

Breathless and sporting a trace of annoyance, Alex leaned up. “Not, that I don't like what you're doing, teasing and all that…but, I'm already hard!” 

Miles snorted. “And impatient!” He grinned at him. “Should I hurry up?” 

Alex's face displayed a marvelous mixture of amusement and agitation. “You could begin if you don't mind!” 

“Begin with what?” Now, the temptation to make him beg was simply too big resist. His mouth returned to his damp and rosy bud, dragging his teeth there. 

Alex shuddered in his arms. “Miles, come on! Please!” 

“Let me,” he chuckled. “Besides, I'm busy looking for something.” 

“For what,” griped Alex, rolling his eyes as his hands dug into Miles' ass. 

“Holes.” 

“In my nipple?” 

More laughter. “When you got here, you made a very cryptic remark about a nipple piercing, and if you have one and are hiding it from me, then you must know: that's fucking rude!” 

“For fuck's sake!” Alex pushed Miles off of him, onto his back, then climbed on top of him. “I don't have one. It's one of those fucking internet rumors or something. Ask Jamie!” 

No piercing then. Miles let his head drop onto the mattress. “Hm.” 

Alex scowled. “Now what?” 

“Nothing,” shrugged Miles. 

“Are you…?” Alex gaped slightly as he sat up, one hand absentmindedly curled around Miles' cock. 

Miles' mind, on the other hand, was very present and firmly focused on Alex's lingering hand. It was his turn to be impatient now. “Am I what?” 

“You kinky fucker! You like the idea of me having a nipple piercing!” 

Well.

“Maybe!” Meeting Alex's eyes, Miles stuck out his tongue cheekily. He couldn't deny that the thought of it had immediately produced some vivid, fiery fantasies. 

Alex leaned down for a provocative kiss that included plenty of tongue and very little restraint. “I have a very unnatural fear of pain in certain areas of my body. Otherwise…” He bit Miles' lower lip as he began to stroke him. 

Miles groaned loudly. Alex had a point. Enough of that teasing! He grabbed Alex's ass and brought him closer. “Otherwise what?” His fingers dug deeper into his flesh, trying to send a message. 

Licking against Miles' tongue, Alex smirked. Roguishly. “Otherwise, I'd have gotten my dick pierced. Had that idea a few years ago. Was too scared to do it. How is that, huh? You like that image?” 

He could fucking kill him for planting that image in his mind. Leaning up, he grabbed Alex's head and bloody ravaged his mouth with his own. He felt Alex’s fingers fist in his hair and it made him greedy. “Fuck me,” he told him as he handed him the condom. 

Alex took it, tore it open, then stopped. 

Miles, restless and needy though he was, spotted the lines that appeared on his lover's forehead and he slowed down. He saw the hesitation, the wish to ask and the reluctance to do it. His hungry gropes turned into sweet caresses. “Babe?” 

“Do I need it?” When Alex met his eyes, almost shy, Miles swallowed hard. “I've never done it without one. I swear. You?” 

He shook his head. The magnitude of what Alex was proposing lay heavy between them. “I've had a big check-up in spring. Blood test and all that. I'm good.” 

“Would it be okay if…” 

Miles' heart skipped a beat. Or two. Or three. He couldn't explain why. But Alex, who was scared of falling asleep in the same bed as him, was sitting on top of him, gazing into his eyes with such endless trust and confidence that it took his words away. His man, his scared-of-love man, wanted to have sex with him, bare, to feel everything.

His hands moved up to Alex's neck and he stretched to meet his lips. Suddenly, it was fiercely different than before. There was a legion's worth of haste that had disappeared. They took their time, now. For a moment, Miles even forgot that they had set out to have sex. It wasn't about the end of it, anymore. It stopped being about the orgasm. The road towards it began to matter. Their kiss got infinitely deeper.

He recalled their rule about whispers and smiled when it was Alex who hushed into his ear that his dallying fingertips made his head swim.

“Your lips do the same to me,” replied Miles, hoarse, as he promptly lost himself in another kiss.

Swept up in it, Miles dimly felt himself tipped back. The very tip of Alex's cock was pressed to his entrance and he clung to him as he pushed in, torturously slow. In the greater scheme of things, it felt a little different without a condom than it did with one. There was more heat to it, literally and figuratively. Miles could sense the direct touch of Alex's skin inside of him and as he moved, it caused a different, a more intense kind of friction.

But he was aware that they were deliberately not using a condom and knowing that made a world of difference altogether. It was _that_ knowledge that made him direct his whole attention there, just to feel. To consciously feel. To experience.

It was that act of never before practiced intimacy that elevated this moment to a different level. And now that he knew what it felt like, against his skin and inside of his heart, to have him like nobody had ever had him before, Miles wondered how he could possibly go back.

Staring into Alex's eyes, he took his lips in a hungry kiss. One that seemed never-ending.

Their pace increased. Miles fell to his back and grabbed on to the headboard as Alex took firm possession of his ass, lifting him off the bed and thrusting into him as he held him in place, up on his legs. He went harder and harder, taking more and more of his breath away. He loved that. He loved that Alex never held back. He gave himself over to the pleasure and took Miles right with him. There was gentleness and tenderness and then there was a point after which they let everything go and just surrendered wholly.

With Alex, Miles never had to restrain himself. With each other, they could just be.

Alex dug his fingers hard into Miles’ back, making him arch and pant and before long, he was convulsing, coming against his stomach as Alex spilled himself deeply into Miles. Their lips reunited for a fervent and fiery kiss until, eventually, they collapsed onto the mattress, spent and exhausted.

Miles curled himself into Alex's wide-open arms. He was on the verge of passing out, drained of energy. His eyes felt unbearably heavy and when he saw that Alex reached for the sheet, to cover them, and not for his shirt, as he usually did after their second time, he placed his lips to his earlobe, kissed it lightly, gathered his courage and asked, “will you let me sleep in your arms? Just for an hour.”

Turning his head, looking at him, Alex waited.

Miles kissed his lobe again. He saw the struggle in his eyes. “You can say _no_. It's okay.” He smiled warmly, full of reassurance. Another little kiss, then he scooted away, to give him room and space.

Alex's hand shot out, kept him in place. “An hour?”

“None more,” promised Miles, stunned and elated. “Less if you want to leave. Just wake me up and I let you go. I promise.”

A shaky breath escaped Alex's lips. “Okay.”

Miles wasn't sure he'd ever received a greater gift. Within seconds, he was asleep.

-

Jamie chuckled when Miles mouthed along to the lyrics of some crazy pop song from the nineties. “What’s with you? You were dead-ass tired earlier!”

“Slept some.” Just an hour, as promised. Then Alex had woken him up with the sweetest kiss he’d ever gotten in his life. He’d never woken up better. After that, Alex had gotten dressed and vanished from his room. All of it in less than a minute. But between waking up and watching him leave, he’d glimpsed at perfection. And it had felt beyond words.

They were all in the VIP area of one of Moscow’s most sought-after clubs, and next to him, on the settee, drink in hand, sat Alex, grinning wickedly. “Sleeping, huh? Did you have some nice dreams?”

Barely able to keep from touching him, Miles grinned mischievously. “Dreamt about piercings.”

Alex coughed violently, spilling parts of his drink on the velvet upholstery.

Now Miles touched him. His hand went to Alex’s back, moving up and down once, and he forced himself to do it in a friendly manner and not in the languid, seductive way he so longed for. “Alright there?” His hand remained in place.

Alex waved his hand. “Drink‘s’stronger than…cough…I thought.”

Noting the sly and hidden little glare that Alex tossed him, Miles sat back. His fingers trailed down, and he kept them on his back, at the lower end of it, knowing he liked being touched there.

Jamie spoke up. “Piercings? You consider getting gone?”

“Me?” Miles shook his head. “Although, I always wanted to get my ears pierced!”

“Really?” Alex perked up.

Nodding, Miles held his gaze. “Haven’t gotten around to it, though.”

“You should do it!”

“Yes?” He liked that Alex was so into the idea.

“I bet it would look really good.”

“You think?” The doubtful words came from Jamie and they pulled Alex and Miles out of their little moment.

Alex sat up straighter as Miles retreated his hand in a covert, yet swift manner. “I do think that. In a…well…kinda rock-ish manner?”

Jamie pulled his brows up, expecting an elaboration.

Sighing, Alex rolled his eyes. “Just saying. Rock stars and piercings and tattoos…all that kind of– Would you stop looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m a bloody riddle that you’re trying to solve.”

Miles could tell that Alex was getting uncomfortable, being put on the spot like that, and he tried to put an end to it. “For what it’s worth, I think it’s very rock, too. Keith Richards got his ears pierced. Maybe I’ll do it soon. I definitely need a smoke now. Anyone else? Alex? Need fresh air or something? Want to go for a smoke?”

“Nope.” Nick shook his head and Miles could have sworn he saw Matt and Jamie glance at him as if waiting for instructions. He shrugged it off. Weird.

“Let’s go,” said Alex, eager to get out.

Only, they never made it to the outside. “This way!” Alex grabbed his hand as soon as they were out of sight and dragged him along. “Here!” At the end of a plain, dark wall beyond the bathrooms, a small corner appeared. Brooms and a bunch of trays were placed on a shelf there.

Miles beamed when Alex pushed him up against it, half-shielded from prying eyes by the shelf. He loved when Alex got needy, loved it when he hungered for him as much as Miles hungered for Alex.

“Found it earlier.” His hands went to his belt, undoing it. Then they made quick work of his button and zipper.

In the back of Miles’ head, something registered.

_‘Found it earlier’_

Had Alex scouted for hidden spots? Had he planned this? He certainly had a risqué set of fantasies. Some of them even made his head spin. Swallowing, breathless and dizzy, Miles covered Alex’s hasty fingers and tried to slow him down. “This is insane! Somebody could find us!”

“True,” agreed Alex. He unzipped Miles’ jeans and licked his lips. A smoldering look of desire settled on his face as he leaned in. “Last chance. Yes or no?”

No! Sex in public area? It was bloody crazy! Only, when he opened his mouth to speak, Alex all but fucked him with his eyes and Miles got lost in his lust for him as he always did. “Yes!”

_Shit!_

What were they doing? They were risking everything! Miles’ lips were glued to Alex’s and despite the fact that this was a stupid, dangerous idea, it felt deliciously, irresistibly wonderful and exciting. Tongues danced with one another to the wild thumping beat of their hammering hearts. Their hands were all over each other.

“Never did anything like this,” whispered Alex enthusiastically.

“Me neither,” admitted Miles, so very eager. He spun around, faced the wall and grunted when he felt Alex’s hard, lubed erection wedge its way inside him. His palms were against the wall, up, fingers spread wide and Alex placed his own on top of his, entwining them. He was fast and efficient, spending no time on sweetness or refined moves. Just hard and raw fucking. Fast. Deep. Dirty.

An amused laugh slipped from his throat when it occurred to him that this was the first time that he was having sex while wearing his leather jacket. And, after tonight, it would be his new favorite one!

Alex wore his as well. Sexy fucker that he was!

Miles reached behind his head, around Alex’s neck and strained and stretched to meet his lips. But he needed to kiss him. His survival depended on it. “Harder,” he begged, alternating between kissing and catching his breath. “Fuck, yes!”

“Baby,” rasped Alex, hoarse, going hard. “Yes! You feel so good!”

They weren’t discreet. They were groaning and panting and not paying the least bit attention. They were completely lost in each other and before long, Alex came inside of him, taking Miles with him over the edge.

For a short moment, they remained in their position, catching their breaths. But it was a precariously open spot.

Pulling out, then turning him around, Alex grabbed Miles’ chin and kissed him fiercely. “Good?”

Laughing, happy, buzzing on his sexual high, Miles nodded. “Very good!” He reached into his jacket and grabbed some paper tissues. Handed one to Alex. Once they were cleaned up and dressed, he placed his own kiss on Alex’s lips. A slow, deeply sensual one. “Need that smoke now.”

For a few seconds, Alex held his hand as they moved out of their little corner. Then he let go and pushed the back door open. A few other people were there as well. The air was frosty and crashed harshly against their heated skins. As Miles lit himself a cigarette, he saw the little shiver that overcame Alex and he immediately shrugged out of his jacket, to put it over his shoulders.

Alex watched him. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t freeze easily. But you’re cold.”

“Here you are!” Matt walked up to them. “Been looking for you! Ran a marathon or something? Your faces are, like, glowing red!”

“Danced for a quick moment,” lied Alex.

“Yes!” Miles joined in. “Some ladies. Fans.”

“Couldn’t say no.”

Matt seemed satisfied. “Ah. Well, anyway, we’re heading back soon, alright? It’s almost four a.m. and with the concert tomorrow and all that press… We’re not twenty anymore!”

A sound snort came from Alex. “Speak for yourself, man! I’m feeling pretty good lately. I think this tour is doing wonders for me!”

Miles smiled softly as he listened to Matt and Alex getting into some playful banter about growing old and still having it. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard him say that the last few weeks were his favorite ones of the tour so far and a tiny, truly remote part of him wondered if maybe, just maybe, he was enjoying himself so much because they were enjoying each other so much. A guy could dream, right?

Maybe, probably, Alex merely loved that, so far, there had been remarkably little conflict and drama, whereas, from what Miles had gathered, that hadn’t been the case last winter and last spring when they’d traveled Asia and America.

He felt a touch against his hand and looked there. Alex had his fingers curled around his. Casually. As if it were the most normal thing in the world. They were standing immediately next to each other. Matt had no chance to see their touching hands. The secret connection made him feel mischievous and naughty and he moved his hand up, around Alex’s wrist, where he placed his thumb to his pulse to caress him. 

Alex’s eyes fluttered for a moment before tossing a warning glare at him. Miles merely smirked.

“It’s weird seeing the two of you get along so well,” noted Matt.

Shit. Miles had completely forgotten about him. And as his words settled in, he frowned, as though he’d gotten caught doing something forbidden and now needed to justify himself. “What do you mean?”

Matt pointedly looked at Alex. “He’s wearing your jacket, isn’t he? Few weeks back and you’d have enjoyed seeing him shiver! Don’t get me wrong! I like that you get along! Makes it easier for all of us! Just…strange. New.”

“Who would have guessed that underneath all that mean snark and biting wit a true gentleman was hiding!” Alex bumped his shoulder against Miles’.

Alex’s humored reaction helped Miles relax a bit. “Well,” he mumbled, still unsure how to react to everything, “Alex turned out to be a lot more likeable than I had imagined.”

“He’s half-bad,” agreed Matt. “Shit, it’s fucking cold. I’ll head back in. See you there.”

“Likeable?” Alex turned to look at Miles with disappointment. “That’s lackluster, wouldn’t you say? I’d have thought you fancied me a bit more than that.”

He fancied him very, _very_ much. Unable to keep himself from it, he grabbed Alex’s head and kissed him, in front of people, strangers, and his heart all but exploded in his chest when Alex curled his arms around him and deepened the lip-lock.

“We’re surrounded by witnesses,” murmured Alex into the kiss, amusedly. “Remember, Russia has this thing about homosexuality. And we are visible to everyone.”

If that was the only thing he worried about, Miles was struck. Had all of Alex’s fears of everything that resembled relationships disappeared? Had he forgotten that they once had a rule about holding hands and kissing that led nowhere? Had he given up fighting his desires? “Shall I stop kissing you then?”

“Not yet,” replied Alex, holding onto him.

“Enchanting,” whispered Miles, truthfully, when he, at long last, let go, slowly bringing some much-needed distance between them. His thoughts were scattered all over the place. “That’s what you are.”

He watched mesmerized as the slowest, giddiest smile spread on Alex’s face.

Had he put it there?

Alex grinned. “Enchanted. That’s a _Taylor Swift_ song, isn’t it?”

“It might be,” said Miles, unable not to laugh.

Alex entwined their hands. “It’s bloody cold. Matt was right. We should get back inside.”

Back in the club, surrounded by a variety of people – friends and strangers – Alex sat down, right next to Miles, without a shred of distance between, and faced his bandmates. “Last round of drinks? Then we call it a night?”

“Sounds good,” agreed Nick.

The waiter came and took their orders and in no time, their drinks arrived. Miles had lost count of the number of drinks he’d had and felt positively buzzed. He had his arm half behind his back, leaning onto it, and Alex’s hand kept brushing up against it. One could be tempted to describe the touch as innocent, but Alex never did anything innocently and Miles bit back an impish grin when, once again, their little fingers met.

“For you,” said Jamie, handing Miles a napkin.

He raised a brow. “What for?”

“Go ahead,” smirked Jamie. “Take it. It’s for you. _For the handsome guy with the dark blue shirt_ , it says. You’re the only wearing blue tonight. It’s got a number on it. My guess is on the waiter.”

“Way to go, Miles! Catching hearts all over the world, huh?” Matt clapped his hands. “I’m not into guys, but he looks good. No denying that.”

“The guy with awful haircut?” Alex snorted. “Looks sleazy to me.”

Miles took the napkin and laughed.

Alex plucked it from his hand, sarcastically asking, “Do you really want that?”

He was awfully tempted to say _yes_ , just to have a little fun with him. However, there was the slightest amount of worry visible on Alex’s face. Just a tiny trace. But it was there, nonetheless. Miles shook his head. “Trash it.”

“Good choice,” commented Alex and crumpled the napkin before tossing it away. “You can do much better.”

“Think so?” Miles barely registered the interested looks which the other guys were aiming his way until Nick grinned and promptly received an elbow in the ribs from Matt. He frowned, crossed his arms and cocked his head. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” said Matt. “Nick was staring at some woman standing behind you. I just did what his wife would have done.” He swallowed his drink at once. “Ready to go? Night’s been going on for a bit. Time for sleep!”

They knew something.

Miles was sure of it.

It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed their odd behavior whenever Alex and he were around. Had they become so obvious? Had Matt seen them kiss in the alley? Enough other people had! He wanted to ask, to find out for certain, but what if he was wrong and nobody knew and everything was exactly as Matt said? Then what?

The others went ahead, but Alex lingered, waiting for him. He held out his hand.

Overcome by doubts, Miles hesitated. “Should we really be this reckless? We’ve been careless all night. People saw us doing all sorts of things. You saw how they were looking at us!”

“Stop worrying. We have to make our way across a very crowded club now. Nobody will even see our hands! Besides, Jamie and the others are way ahead of us.” He turned to stand in front of Miles. “One last thing, though.” He grabbed the fabric of his shirt and pulled hard, bringing Miles’ mouth against his own. Alex placed a heady kiss on his lips, making a big show of it. Then he let go with a smirk.

Miles blinked a few times. “What the hell?”

“Just letting the waiter know you’re mine. Would be rude to leave him with his hopes up.”

Damn him, thought Miles. His heart skipped an entire song’s worth of beats. He dipped his head forward, put his lips to Alex’s neck and kissed him there. “Yours alone,” he stated.

Alex, smiling happily, entwined their fingers once again and they made their way out. And he had been right. As they were leaving, walking past dozens of people, towards the exit, nobody was paying much attention. Guests were lost in conversation, lost in dancing and lost in liquor. Nobody took note.

Strikingly, not even Alex. He just nonchalantly held onto him.

Miles, however, paid attention. He couldn’t _not_ do that. His fingers were burning up. Alex’s touch was searing and hot and messed greatly with his lung and heart functions. Why was that happening now? They’d done countless filthy and provocative things. A simple touch should be boring by now. But, as of late, it were the simple touches that wreaked havoc with his mind. The tender kisses undid him more than entire rounds of wild sex. When Alex directed his gaze at him, he felt himself growing hot and cold at the same time. It was the strangest feeling in the world.

Half an hour later, they were back at the hotel and as everyone said their tired goodnights and made their way from the lobby to the elevators, Miles waited and dwelled and took a seat on one of the couches.

Alex took a seat next to him. “Crazy day, huh?”

“Crazy night as well.” The exhaustion of the last twenty-four hours was catching up to him. Speaking became almost too hard a task and all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and fall asleep. Only, once he’d do that, his time with Alex would end. And the next day would offer little to no chance of spending even a few moments with him. “We’ll be very busy tomorrow,” said Miles, wistfully.

“I know.”

“No time for funny business. Not before night, anyway.”

Alex shook his head. He looked down. “There’s a…” His hand went to his neck, his finger scratched his nape. “I got this CD. Got it today. After sound-check. There is a little store across the arena…never mind. Anyway, I thought, we could listen to it together. Tomorrow night? Have some pizza. Or anything, really. Doesn’t matter what we eat. We don’t have to eat!” He stopped talking and took a deep breath. “I’m rambling. I know. You can tell me if you don’t want to!”

“I’d love to!”

His smile was instant. “You do?”

Was he honestly surprised that he would love to hang out with him?

Miles couldn’t care less about what they’d be doing, as long as they did something together! He was gorgeous. Shy and nervous in one moment, and confident and self-assured in the next. Not too long ago, Alex had taken him against a wall in a public space with a swagger and an air of possessiveness that had left him weak in the knees and walking on clouds at the same time, and still, here he was, all but stuttering while suggesting something as mundane as listening to music together.

The smile kept tugging on Alex’s lips as he was stifling a yawn. “I should go up now. Rest and…”

“Sleep?” Miles nodded as he got up as well. “I should do that, too.” He’d loved to do it next to him, but he’d already gotten so much out of this day and he didn’t want to push his luck.

Alex made his way to the elevator. Miles followed behind. As he passed a small table with a vase of roses, he felt just silly enough to pluck one out and take it with him. _Must_ be the day, he figured. He wasn’t the type to do that sort of thing. But Alex had that effect on him. He made him do the strangest, craziest things. He kept it hidden behind his back.

Inside the elevator, Alex leaned against the wall. “Don’t tell Matt, but…” He laughed. “I do feel old and fucking tired!”

“Me, too,” confessed Miles.

The elevator chimed and the doors drifted apart. Alex got out, paused in the door and offered a smile that had Miles feel light-headed and dizzy. “I’d kiss you, but I’m not sure I can stop once I start.”

“And we wouldn’t want that,” mused Miles. “Right?”

“No,” agreed Alex, grinning. “We want to sleep, right?”

“Sleep. Yes.” Miles took a step towards him, then another one. Alex remained in place. “Just that.” His voice got low, because of their proximity, because of the forever-crackling tension between them, and because of that unshakable tiredness that had a vicious hold on him. He pulled his hand from behind his back and held up the rose in front of him. “Sweet dreams.”

With a bewildered expression, a bit dazed, Alex took it, and as he did that, he moved back a step. The doors closed.

Sweet dreams, indeed. Miles knew he’d have them.

.

.

** Spoiler Chapter 19: **

#

“I'm starting to think you like it in public.” His grip got firmer. The other hand dug into his thigh. “Does it turn you on? Knowing he’s there?”

#

Memories of last night returned to him and he felt himself getting sick. “God, Alex, what have we done last night? If that comes out…”

#


	19. Reckless Behavior

19

Alex was behind the stage, saying his goodbyes to a few reporters who’d dropped by for a few last interviews. The rest of the band was there as well, but as soon as the last hand had been shaken, everyone scrambled off into various directions. Nick, probably, to his dressing room. Jamie headed towards Katie, who’d waited nearby. Matt was on the phone in an instant. Only Alex stayed.

He casually walked towards the large table near the containers in which the cables were stored. A wide variety of beverages stood there, on display, for everyone, and he took his time inspecting the offerings. Every now and then he took a bottle, some scotch or a beer or something else entirely, read the label, put it away again and moved on.

Miles smiled to himself as he strolled up to him. Reaching his side, placing both hands on top of the table, he flashed him a grin. “Picky today?”

“Watching me, huh?” Alex chuckled without looking at him. His eyes rested on a small Russian bottle of Vodka. “Shouldn’t you be in your dressing room, getting all pretty and primped? Your set is about to start. You can already hear the audience calling your name.”

“I got a few more minutes left. And I already am pretty. No need for additional primping.”

Alex glanced at him sideways. “Are you, now?”

“Disagree?” Miles leaned closer. An inch or two at most. But their arms were brushing against another now. That little contact – any contact with him, really – was enough to raise his temperature to dangerous levels. “Are you about to trade me in for a sexier version?” He reached for the bottle in Alex’s hand, placed his own fingers on top of his, felt him still all movements, heard him inhale sharply. Lowering his voice, Miles whispered, “I dreamt of you last night.”

“Doing what?” asked Alex hoarsely, eyes fluttering.

Forcing himself not to grab him and kiss him, Miles clutched the table hard with his other hand, gulping, as memories of his dream began to fill his head. “You were a big, cocky, arrogant, rude rock star – as you are,” he interjected, smirking. His lips brushed lightly against Alex’s ear. Once, maybe twice. “And I was your misbehaving French maid.”

He felt him grasp the bottle harder, could see his knuckles turning white. Then Alex tore it away, out of Miles’ hold, and he took a large stride back. His eyes were harsh and warning and midnight black from arousal. “Fucking stay away from me! You have a show to play. Then I have a show to play!” He unscrewed the bottle and took a big swig. It was strong Vodka and Alex shuddered. “And…” He looked up from below his lashes, hissing, “there’s no fucking way I can get my hands on a bloody French maid outfit this late at night!”

Miles kept his gaze on him. Feasted on him. “Would you like me to wear one?” He’d do it in a heartbeat. Between them, there was no line he wouldn’t cross. No fantasy too wicked. “Skirt and all. I could polish the family jewels for you.” He winked rakishly, utterly enjoying Alex’s increasingly tense state.

“Fucking stop!” Alex was glaring now.

“Miles! You’re on!” Some stagehand came hurrying over.

“On my way,” he let him know. But, first, he took a step towards Alex, almost but not quite close enough for a kiss. He dipped his head, edged closer, brought his mouth to his ear again and breathed out, “I got one today. It’s in my hotel room. Maybe I’ll put it on for you. See you later, babe.”

As he got on his way to the stage, he saw Alex taking another swig from the bottle. It made him laugh.

-

He wanted to dance with him. He wanted to put his hands on his hips, lean in and slowly sway to the music, steal a few kisses here and there, while trying to resist the urge to drag him away and do something else entirely. He wanted to brush his unruly hair from his forehead, he wanted to rub his nose against that one little spot below his earlobe that he knew was excitably sensitive and he wanted to whisper the cheesiest things into his ear, just to hear him laugh.

Miles wanted more than sex.

Sitting at the bar of some fancy club that the concert organizers had invited them all to, after finishing their gig, he curled his fingers around the cold glass and brought the rare brand of Vodka to his lips, taking a brief moment of pleasure from the way it burned as it made its way down his throat.

Alex was at the bar as well, a few seats away. They were all surrounded by a large throng of people – everyone from stagehand to management – and if he got up and walked over to him now, people would take note. They'd watch and see that he was too eager to get close to him. They'd observe and figure out that he wasn't able to stand next to him and not touch him in some form or other.

He’d already gone too far today when he’d been unable to keep his distance before the show. People had no doubt seen them standing too close.

So, Miles remained in his spot.

“You should just do it.”

He looked up and spotted Katie hovering next to him, forever sporting that coy grin that said _I know all your secrets_. He had no doubt that she did. She had wanted to come along on tour for a while now and Jamie had been more than happy when she'd decided to join them for parts during their last leg.

Her words echoed in his head. “Do what?”

Her grin got wider. “Kiss.”

“What?” Miles quickly busied himself with his drink, shaking his head. “There's nothing going between me and – you're imagining things! Alex and I…pff! Kiss. Ridiculous. Wherever would you get that idea from?”

“From you,” she said, delightedly, taking a seat next to him, blocking his view on Alex. “I didn’t say his name. I didn’t even say it was a _he_. You did.”

_Shit!_

_FUCK!_

How could he slip up like that?

How many Vodkas did he have?

“You're good,” he told her in awe.

“I know.” She took a sip from her drink. “But rest easy, I had a hunch. Alex slipped up a few weeks ago. Been spying on you ever since.”

“Katie!”

“What? Jamie is always busy rehearsing and stuff like that. What's a girl to do? You two are my new favorite hobby! But you're sneaky. I have to admit that. I've yet to see one of you slip out of the other one's room!”

Miles was dumbstruck. “What did Alex say that made you so curious?”

“He called you _his man_. At first, I thought it was a just figure of speech, that he had just called you that for no reason at all. It was when you and Jamie were running against each other the gym a few weeks back. But then, when you won, he ran over and handed you that water bottle and he had the proudest look on his face. He was bloody bursting with pride!”

“Does Jamie know?” God, he hoped not. It was complicated enough as it was. Alex had been very stern when he'd declared that love was not an option. “'Cause…it's really nothing.” He sighed. What a lie it was to call it that.

“Bullshit!” She gaped at him. “You're head over heels for him, my friend! But, no, Jamie doesn't know. Though I have a feeling if the guys would be a little more attentive to something other than music, they'd have figured out long before me! You may be good at sneaking around, but you're not exactly subtle! That was some serious longing on your face just a moment ago. Why aren't you all over him right now?”

_Ha!_

_Where to begin?_

“It's just sex. You've been there. You know how we used to argue! Sex is just a different outlet. Something like that. All that attraction and tension… I think it has always been there.” As he spilled his heart, Miles found that he was actually very grateful that she knew. He hadn't known how much he needed someone to talk to until now. “We became friends, somehow. Then friends with benefits. And now…”

“You're in love.”

“I can't be. I'm not supposed to. That was the deal. No love. No relationship.”

“Miles, it doesn't work that way.”

He rolled his eyes. “I know that.” After a heavy exhale he continued. “It's not just that. He's a bloody rock star. And his life, it's really complicated right now. He's got a ton on his plate. He doesn't need me to bring any more trouble into his life. What if anyone found out, Katie? He'd lose fans. The whole band could lose fans! I don't want to be the cause for that!”

“You think he cares?” She shook her head.

As did he. “He does care. He loves this. It's his life.”

“When Jamie proposed, some guy from the label called it a bad business deal. Said I'd cost him some good money. Jamie was tempted to quit just for that comment. To spite him. Alex would burn the fucking house down before he'd allow anyone to take away something he wants. And he wants you.”

Alex wanted him in bed, that Miles knew. And he wanted him as his friend. That he knew as well. And he didn't doubt either part. But other than that, Alex had been very clear and specific in regards to what he didn't want.

Then again, it had been different, lately? Had it not? They had all but given up on their rules by now. With the exception of the holy one, which was no sleeping over. But even that one had its first crack. They’d been holding hands. They were constantly kissing. And judging by the past few days, Alex sure loved to whisper things into his ear!

Miles shook his head again.

 _No_.

He had to stop doing that. If anything, he should be stopping both of them! Love was dangerous. Alex was right about that. It was volatile and could ruin everything! “Don't tell anyone, please. Not the band, not Jamie, and please don't say a word to Alex!” He was afraid Alex would bolt if he found out that he had, after all, developed feelings.

“I promise.”

“Promise what?” Alex wrapped his arm around Miles' shoulders, not having the slightest idea how hard that little touch was messing with his head. And his body. “This looks like a very secretive conversation.” He leaned closer, driving Miles to the brink of losing it without having the slightest clue. “Who are gossiping about?”

“My sex life,” quipped Katie.

Miles sent her a grateful look.

Alex leaned back, scowling. “What did I tell you? Do not ruin my guitar player for me. He doesn't have a sex life as far as I'm concerned! He's like a brother to me.”

Jamie joined in. “A brother?” He kissed Alex's cheek and slapped his ass. “Tsk. I love you, too!”

When Alex shuddered in disgust, Miles and Katie broke down in laughter. But Miles laughed a little less when, most casually, Alex resumed his hold on him. Putting his hand on his shoulder, truly harmlessly, he just stood there, joking and laughing, not having a care in the world.

Miles, on the other hand, fought to swallow as he finished off his Vodka, grateful for the cold liquid as it slowly dulled his worries. He ordered another round of drinks and did his best to appear unaffected by Alex's increasingly touchy behavior. He, too, was getting drunker with each glass.

Liquor, though, had never been the solution to anything and as their inhibitions drowned away in alcohol, Miles lost all focus on his surroundings. He dimly remembered wanting to be discreet and careful. But those thoughts were dying fast with each searing look that Alex aimed at him. Before long, his arm was tied possessively around Alex's waist, keeping him inseparably close, and he beamed up at him. “Mean shit, this Vodka!”

“Oh yes,” agreed Alex, smiling dazzlingly. He leaned down, brushed his lips against his ear, and caused a tidal wave of arousal to hit him when he whispered, “let's get out of here.”

Miles wasn't all that sure where here was and where they were supposed to go. The Vodka was deftly doing his job! But every place that included privacy and Alex was a perfect destination by default. “Where to?”

“Your room,” suggested Alex slyly, tugging him off the stool. He had that smoldering look on his face, the one that screamed of sex and dirty, filthy thoughts. “I want you to dress up for me!”

Miles was tempted to fan himself. He giggled when the floor began to move beneath him and tightened his grip on Alex's hand. “Yeah?”

“Yes!” Alex stepped closer. “Let's go.”

“Hurry!” Miles spun him around, roped his arm around him from behind and joined him in his laughter as they tried to maneuver towards the exit. They made their way through crowds of people, past some paparazzi, and into a waiting car. As soon as the door closed – and Miles could not say how that happened – his lips were on Alex's.

“Fucking dying to kiss you all night!”

“Fucking dying to kiss you all day,” declared Alex. “All those interviews and rehearsal and lunch and—”

More kissing. Miles was rolled to his back and he licked his lips in appetite as he watched him crawl on top of him.

“The thought of you is enough to drive me crazy!” Miles growled as Alex undid his pants and slipped his hand inside. “I'm fucking addicted to you!”

His cold fingers wrapped around his semi-hard cock and Miles moaned in agreement. His eyes fell shut, he groaned aloud and arched up.

“No sex in my car,” interrupted the driver, speaking English with a strong Russian accent.

Miles rolled his eyes hard as the driver’s words wedged themselves between him and his fun with Alex. He leaned up, annoyed. “How far is the damn hotel away?”

Alex, not letting go of him, raised his brow. “What are you thinking?”

“Twenty minutes,” interrupted the driver.

That was too far away.

Miles fumbled in his pockets, impetuously, and pulled out some cash. 15 000 Rubel. The equivalent of roughly two-hundred Pounds. Miles sat up, Alex's hand still around his shaft, and shoved it into the driver’s hand. “Pretend the car is empty!”

“Alright,” said the driver, dryly.

“Alright,” whispered Alex, hoarsely, smiling hard, taking control again as he pushed Miles back into the seat. He adjusted, began to move his fist up and down his erection, and placed little kisses to his jaw. “I'm starting to think you like it in public.” His grip got firmer. The other hand dug into his thigh. “Does it turn you on? Knowing he’s there?”

He was drunk as fuck, hard beyond words, fucking bursting with excitement and on the very brink of exploding in Alex’s hand. He didn’t give a shit about the driver. All he wanted was Alex and he couldn’t wait another minute or another mile!

“Where else do you want me? Tell me, and I'll make it happen.”

Swimming on arousal, Miles laughed breathlessly. “I'm still stuck on your locker room fantasy.”

“Oh,” rasped Alex, licking and kissing, “I'm stuck on that, too. What else?”

“A pool would be nice.” Wet Alex. That one held a particularly special spot in his mind. Ever since their little bathtub moment, he couldn't wait to have another go with him in a body of water. Only next time, he wanted more room. He wanted space to move. Space to fuck.

Alex nodded against his neck, the tip of his nose rubbing his skin. “More. Be specific.” He went faster. Moved his thumb over Miles' crown.

He all but drooled. “You're so fucking good at this!”

“Am I?” Alex laughed throatily. He moved his thumb away and let his index finger take over, gliding tenderly over the top. Miles gasped for air, hard and desperately. “Shock me,” he told him. “Be really dirty. Tell me your kinkiest fantasy.”

Rolling to his side, meeting Alex's plum lips in a fervid kiss, Miles whimpered into it. His hands cupped his face, his thumbs brushed his jaw and his eyes were wide-open and gazing at him. Fuck, he had so many! Every way one could fuck, he wanted to fuck. Everywhere. With Alex, his imagination was limitless! One came to his mind. A bit of a silly one. But he wanted it, anyway. “Will you do it for me?”

“Do what?” Alex kissed him again, hard. “You have to tell me!”

Miles turned his face, brought his mouth to his ear, lowered his voice. “I want to see you wear a thong. A flimsy, frilly, lace thong.”

Biting his lip, Alex growled. “Consider it done. More!” His teeth nipped on his skin.

“I want us to fuck in a church. Somewhere forbidden.” Closer and closer to his release, Miles was shaking now. “And because of the acoustics!”

That got a laugh from Alex. “How about a cathedral, huh? Why think small?”

“Tell me what you want.”

“You. Naked. Everywhere. All the time.” He moved his hand relentlessly fast. “I'm crazy for you.”

“And I'm for you.”

“Have you ever filmed yourself doing it?” Alex bit Miles' lower lip, dragged his teeth there and smirked when his eyes opened wide. “Want to make a little movie with me?”

“Yes,” he said, only to repeat it again and again, gravelly, as he came in Alex's hand.

“Need a tissue,” asked the driver, matter-of-factly.

Alex snorted a wild laugh.

Miles buried his head in his lover's shoulder. “We should be mortified!”

“Why?” He grinned coyly. “Everybody is doing it, baby. We just like doing it in public.” He brushed his cheek tenderly. “Shall I tell him to drive an extra round? Do you want to go again?”

“Oh, I do. But we need a bed for that! I got plans!”

Alex met him with a look of howling intrigue. “What plans?”

He dug his face once again into the curve of his neck, deeper, biting down gently. “Want me to tie you up?”

A visible shiver spread through Alex. He nodded, eyes dark and mouth ajar, and turned towards the driver. “Hurry up. We got plans.”

-

Miles trailed his index finger slowly down Alex's spine, grinning. He could feel every last tremor that went through his body, felt every vibration from every little shiver. He placed his lips to his nape and kissed it decadently, thrusting deeply into him as he did so.

Alex threw his head back, grasped, “Fuck! YES!” His arms were tied to each side of the headboard, his legs, each, to the foot of the bed, spread apart. “Do that again,” he begged.

He moved his finger in the opposite direction, up his spine, as he pulled out his penis, slowly, then pushed in, fast.

“ARGHH!” Alex shook beneath him, pulling on his restraints, but failing to break free.

Pulling all the way out, Miles trailed a line of lazy kisses down the path that his fingertip had mapped out. His hand slipped between Alex's thighs, fondled his balls, made him squirm and wriggle. Until Miles' tongue got there. Then he jerked and arched and lifted himself off the mattress, moaning loud and wantonly.

For a moment or two, Miles indulged him, licked him where he knew he'd love it, and brought him the tiniest bit closer to the edge. Then he ventured on, a bit further down, where he found a new resting place, kissing gently along the sensitive skin of his inner thighs.

“Shit, Miles!”

“Should I stop?” There was humor in his tone.

“Yes! No! FUCK!”

He nipped his skin. “Tell me how.”

“Cock,” Alex said gruffly. “Want your cock. Want it now!”

Miles scooted up, pushed into him again. All the way. Languid at first, then faster and faster and faster. He was close, too. So very close. Grabbing firmly onto Alex's hips, he kept going and going. “Alex…so close…feels so good!”

“Baby, yes! OH YES!”

Alex was convulsing beneath him, shuddering as it hit him, taking Miles with him as he fell apart.

Sweaty and breathless, Miles fell off Alex’s back and rested next to him, head on the back of his arm. He glanced at him. Grinned. “I’d untie you, but I’m a bit exhausted at the moment.”

Satisfied and laughing, Alex held his gaze. “Take your time. I’m good here.”

“You are?” Miles scooted closer, placing little kisses to his shoulder. “Good!” The kisses stopped and he scrambled off the bed, into the bathroom.

The costume hung on a hanger on the wall, and he laughed as he took it from there and slipped into it. It hadn’t been easy to find one that actually fit him but, to his complete amazement, sex shops had something for every kink and the second one he’d ventured into had been stocked excessively well!

“I hear you laughing,” called Alex from the bedroom. “If you’re having fun without me, that’s fucking unfair! At least do it in here so I can watch!”

Miles pulled the bathroom door open wide, stepped back into the bedroom and placed both hands to his hips, posing smugly. “Well? Can I pull it off?”

Roaring laughter filled the room and Alex pulled on his restraints, anxious to get them off. “Untie me! I want to enjoy this moment!”

“Ooh, but _Monsieur Turner_ ,” said Miles, using a thick and ridiculous French accent that made both of them laugh, “you have been very dirty! I have to clean you up first!”

“Miles, fucking untie me!”

Miles climbed onto the bed and nestled between Alex’s legs. His fingers, covered in white lace gloves, stroked up along the back of Alex’s thighs and he chuckled when his lover grumbled an impressive array of curses as his thumb brushed the bottom of his butt cheek. The other hand cupped his balls.

Alex raised his hips off the mattress, hissed, pulled and struggled. “Miles!”

“Say the word and I will.” He buried his between his thighs and gave his crown jewels a languid lick that stole a good deal of Alex’s breath.

But he didn’t say their agreed-upon safe word. Miles kept going. He placed a tender kiss against his puckered hole.

Alex’s whimpers became keen moans. “I can’t fucking see you,” he complained. “You look fucking ridiculous but it’s turning me on like shit! Fuck, baby, please!”

Miles pushed his tongue in. Swirled, licked, teased. “I’ll keep the outfit on, I promise.” More licking. “I’ll even take a selfie for you!”

Laughter mixed with a pant as Alex began to shudder.

The lace-gloved hand that had so far danced dirtily with Alex’s balls now moved on to his cock and Miles began stroking him. Alex’s whole body was shaking and convulsing and when he let his tongue slide inside one more time, hitting just the right spot, Alex flew apart in underneath him.

Completely breathless, barely able to keep his eyes open, Alex whispered, “Yoko Ono,” their safe word.

With a smirk, Miles pulled on the ends of his pristinely black silk ties that he’d used as makeshift cuffs, freeing him.

Alex rolled them over and sank into his arms with a lazy smile and a satisfied look. “Holy shit…that was…”

“Fucking good,” supplied Miles with a chuckle, holding him tightly against his chest. 

“And then some,” agreed Alex. It took a few moments, but eventually, he raised his head, placed his hand to Miles’ stomach and snickered. “No shit, you should wear that on stage!”

“Never,” laughed Miles. “This is for your eyes only!”

Playing with a bit of lace on the dress’s front, Alex kept his eyes on him. “I don’t like this. Or…at least, I don’t like this with anybody else.”

“Kinky sex games?” Miles frowned, uneasy. “How many have you played with others?”

Alex smiled as he shook his head. “You’re my first, don’t worry!” He lowered his head to kiss his lips. “Giving up control. I don’t like doing that. But, with you, it’s different.” Another kiss. “You make me want to be crazy,” he admitted.

Miles just stared at him, stunned by his honest words.

“You make me want to dare and leap and just…try things.”

“You’re the one who makes me all daring and reckless,” confessed Miles. He’d never even considered public sex before Alex had stepped into his life. And a fucking French maid outfit? He’d have called anyone who’d suggested that a fool!

Alex rolled him to his side and placed a flurry of kisses against his shoulders as he pressed himself against his backside. “You can take the dress off now.” He untied the little white apron’s bow and tossed it off the bed. It landed next to the discarded silk ties. “You’ll never get the creases out of those again.”

Miles let his head lean back, allowed Alex to kiss the side of his jaw. How was it possible? How could they still be high from their orgasms and already crave the next ones? “Don’t care,” he sighed, melting in Alex’s arms as his partner’s hands roamed all over his body, undoing buttons, trying to get rid of the costume. Miles sat up, pulled it over his head and threw it to the ground.

Alex chuckled as his arms snaked around his naked torso. “Four fancy silk ties, that’s roughly a thousand Pounds. Sex with me is worth that?”

Lost in the marvelous feeling of having Alex kiss him as though he was his favorite thing in the world, Miles moaned. “I’d give everything for a night with you.”

The kisses stopped.

Miles cursed inwardly. He covered Alex’s hands as he lifted them off his body to turn around. “That came out wrong.” Only, it hadn’t come out wrong. He was fairly certain he’d meant every word of it. “I just meant to say…” How to explain himself out of this mess? He dared to meet Alex’s eyes, worried to find them alarmed, only to end up surprised when he found them pleased.

“Say what?” Alex wondered.

“I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“I’m not.” He placed his hand on Miles’ neck and pulled him on top of him. “What would I be? I know that you like me. I like you, too. You think I want you any less than you want me?”

Want.

Miles smiled, somewhat relieved, and sank into the kiss that Alex initiated. He sure wanted him. Only, he wanted him in ways Alex didn’t understand, or, most likely, pretended not to understand. The kiss intensified and as they tumbled and turned and took time in each other’s arms, Miles wished this wouldn’t be the beginning of their nightly goodbyes.

But it was.

Like clockwork.

Alex let up, placed the last lingering kiss to his cheek. It had become their ritual. “Gotta go. Pack and that stuff. We’re leaving for Oslo tomorrow, remember? Have to be up bright and early.”

“Do that.” He gave his cheek a last caress. “I’ll go to sleep and be late and grumpy.”

That drew a grin from Alex as he reached for his shirt. “Dream of me again,” he suggested smugly. “That ought to put you in a good mood!”

A snort from Miles. “Cocky much?”

“Always!” He grabbed his shoes, waved, and was gone.

Miles rolled over and fell asleep.

-

“Wake up already!”

Miles’ eyes flew open at the harsh, unfriendly tones of Alex’s voice as it made its way through the thin layer of his bedsheet. He’d forgotten to pull the curtains close and the bright sun glared snidely at him. He pulled the pillow over his eyes and cursed.

“Miles! Fucking get up already!”

“Unless you’re here for sex, I suggest you get lost! I’m tired. I want to sleep,” he roared, tired and annoyed. He was truly no morning person and, this exhausted, he was as cranky as he could get!

“Sleep on the plane! It’s seven-thirty. We’re supposed to be on our way!”

Miles patted the mattress blindly, searching for his phone. When he found it, he checked the time. Fuck! Alex wasn’t lying. He was so fucking late! Glancing around, spotting the unpacked items all over the room, he groaned even louder. “Fuck!”

“Get up!”

He did. His befuddled mind managed to allow him to grab the edge of the sheet and pull it off. He sat up, wiped his eyes and found Alex standing by the foot of the bed. He was a vision! Dressed sharply in slacks, a pristinely ironed button-down shirt and a fiercely well-cut leather jacket, he looked like sex on legs. Miles scooted to the edge of the mattress and reached out as he got drunk on his sight.

“Down boy!” Alex briskly pushed his eager hands away. “Don’t even think about it!”

Miles followed his movements and watched him as he grabbed shirts and pants and scribbled notes only to shove them unceremoniously into the giant suitcase sitting almost empty in the corner of the room.

“When you said you’d be grumpy and late, I considered it a joke. Usually, I’m the one running behind, but even I haven’t managed to be _this_ late!” Alex continued packing. “Our bands already left. A car is waiting for us.” He looked up and scoffed. “Would you get dressed already?”

Miles looked down at himself. He was naked. “I should shower, too.”

“You don’t have time for that! You have to haul your dirty self into some jeans and do it fast!”

“Are we that late?”

“Late, tempted, pick whatever.” Alex packed on.

“Hey!” Something occurred to him. “How did you get in here?”

“Asked the maid to let me in. She was quick to help.”

“Would you stop paying hotel staff to break the law?!”

“You don’t want me sneaking into your room anymore?” Alex briefly paused stuffing Miles’ suitcase to meet his eyes. “I had a feeling you liked that.”

He did. That’s why he’d suggested getting him an extra key to his room. Alex had declined, saying that would be too ‘relationshippy’. He preferred breaking in, instead.

Miles rolled his eyes and got dressed.

Ten minutes later, both sat in the car en route to the airport. Alex leaned back and sighed exhaustedly. “Like a bloody morning workout,” he mumbled. “What’s with you today? I didn’t tire you out any more than usual!”

“Don’t know. Guess all those sleepless nights are beginning to catch up with me.”

Alex looked away. “Would you like a pause or som—”

“No!” Miles winced. That sounded awfully desperate. But, really, a pause was the last thing he wanted. “I mean, I just need some sleep. I’ll get it on the plane.”

A sly smile spread on Alex’s face. “I’m still welcome during your nights, then?”

Miles nodded his head.

“You should know something. When we left the club last night…” Alex met his eyes and fidgeted with a bit of lint on Miles’ pants. “We were drunk and a little preoccupied, I presume. Anyway, there are pictures. Of us. Of me, in your arms, as we stumble towards the cab. Just a warning. Jamie asked me about it. Told him we were drunk off our asses and just messing around. I think he believed me.”

Miles’ frosty mood dropped even lower as he was overcome with remorse. How could he have been so reckless? “I’m so sorry! I should have remembered that we were in public. Fuck, you think cab driver will tell anyone?” Images of last night returned to him and he could already feel himself getting sick. “God, Alex, what have we done last night? If that comes out…”

“Then what? People will know. I don’t care. I’m just giving you a fair warning, ‘cause you seem a bit testy, to put it carefully, and I know that Jamie is a very nosy friend. So, try and avoid him until you feel up to his questions and he will have questions.”

“Forget Jamie!”

Alex blinked. “What?”

“You–” He lowered his voice, leaning closer. “You jerked me off in front of a cab driver. After I paid him money to look the other way. That’s not nothing, Alex!” As much as he enjoyed what they were doing, they too often forgot that they weren’t the only ones walking this earth. Actions had consequences.

“We had fun, didn’t we?”

“Aren’t you the least bit concerned that someone might take offense?”

“About what?” His voice and his irritation increased.

Miles stared blankly at him. “About what we’ve done?!”

The cab driver arrived at the airport and Miles got out, to grab his bags. Alex got out as well, but apparently, he no longer felt a need for any kind of haste. “I’m tempted to suck you in front of all these people just to shut you up! I don’t understand why you’re so bloody worried. Do you regret what we’ve done?”

Regret? Never! “No!”

“Then stop worrying! Whatever happens, happens anyway.”

Miles didn’t stop worrying. But he stopped talking about it. Alex, for some inane reason, wasn’t the least bit concerned about fallout or repercussions. Not that he was surprised, really. He usually turned a blind eye towards anything he didn’t want to deal with. But some things couldn’t be ignored.

Last night, they’d been reckless.

And if Alex wasn’t willing to take more care, then Miles would have to watch out for the both of them.

.

.

**Spoiler Chapter 20**

#

The waiter came and took their orders and as Pauline began to ask about the details of the Norwegian cuisine, Miles turned towards Alex, grumbling. “Kids?”

“Would you relax?”

“Should I be worried? You think about children? Shouldn’t you spend a night first?”

“Seriously, calm down!” He chuckled, amused. “You look horrified. Believe me,” he assured, “you and l are lightyears away from that discussion! I don’t plan on children anytime soon! But we should really pray to all the dead rock stars out there that your mother never meets mine! If they join forces, we might as well marry now.”

#

A chuckle vibrated from Miles’ throat. His hand brushed lightly against Alex’s cheek. “What did you want to talk to me about? You got me curious.”

“Just…” Alex shook his head. What was it that he had wanted to discuss? The obvious? That they’d ventured too fast into forbidden territory? That they needed to slow down? Take a step back? A break, maybe? The thought sickened him. He didn’t want space, he wanted the opposite!

Fuck! He no longer knew what he wanted!

“Nothing of importance. Already forgot.” He kissed him again.

#


	20. The Calm Before...

**20**

**Early October**

Alex was in a surprisingly good mood. He'd gotten some sleep on the plane and even more sleep once they'd arrived at the hotel. The weather was nice – much warmer and friendlier than Moscow's icy air. And he'd found his minibar stocked with chocolate bars. Things were going very well so far. 

He was making his way down the corridor. Miles' room was only a few doors away and he hadn't seen him since leaving the airport. Despite his fiercest efforts to have a bit of a talk with him on the flight, to let him know he was completely and absolutely uninterested in anyone's reaction in case they got caught, Miles had immediately fallen asleep. Disagreeing entirely with that reaction, Alex had woken him up. After that, Miles had been cranky. And he’d stubbornly fallen asleep again. On their way out of the airport, Miles had let him know that he planned on writing and therefore, Alex had let him be. If he didn't know better, he'd say that his favorite rock star was avoiding him. But that would be altogether ridiculous. One, he had no reasonable excuse to do that and, two, Miles really ought to know by now that Alex didn’t like being avoided. It only made him try harder. 

He grinned to himself as he slipped the keycard into Miles' door. He'd gotten really good at getting those. The perpetually underpaid maids were most likely to 'lend' him theirs in exchange for a nice little tip. 

Miles had offered to get him one. Officially. Legally. But where was the fun in that? 

Carefully opening the door, he glanced around, saw nobody, then entered fully. He never stormed inside. Or, well, rarely ever. There was a risk of running into one of their bandmates and while he remained committed to not giving a damn about onlookers, he tried to withhold their affair from his band for as long as possible. They were too nosy. 

“Ooh _Milesy_ , where are you? Where's my sexy little fuck toy?” 

Miles appeared from behind a corner, mouth slightly agape. 

Alex ignored it wholeheartedly and grabbed his shirt's lapels, tugging him in for a fierce kiss. Only, Miles wasn't kissing him back. 

_For crying out loud!_

Alex, annoyed, tried again. But damnit, he just wasn’t relenting! He pulled back with a hint of a glare, lips still puckered. Miles’ eyes carried an expression he had the hardest time defining. Until the latter tilted his head towards the side. Pointedly. 

Glancing there, Alex discovered why his man had kept his lips shut. He slowly unpuckered his own, straightened Miles' shirt and took a large step back. “Mrs. Kane. What a huge surprise to see you here. It has been a while!” 

Pauline Kane stood up from her spot on the edge of Miles' bed and turned towards him, extending her hand. He shook it. “Alexander. Wise decision to address me by my last name,” she noted. The bemused grin on her face reminded Alex of Miles' and he glanced at him sideways, finding him staring at the ground probably trying to burn a hole into it so he’d something to disappear into. He understood the urge. 

“Well, boys, I'll be leaving now. Miles, I expect you in an hour for dinner in the hotel restaurant.” 

Miles nodded jerkily. “Be there.” 

A moment later, she had left the room. 

Alex hit his shoulder. “Warn me next time, would you?! That woman is thinking the worst of me! Like I'm some sex-starved lunatic or something!” His eyes widened in shock. “Oh no. She had no idea, did she? That I'm a guy? I mean, of course, she knows I'm a guy, but…” He stopped talking, tried rearranging his disarrayed mind. Alex looked up and offered a deeply apologetic look. “Did I just out you in front of her?” 

“Sexy little fuck toy?” A smirk danced on Miles' lips as he ignored his question. “I take offense at _little_.” 

Alex sat down on the bed and buried his face in his hands. “Would you stop? This is awful!” 

“It is not,” assured Miles. And laughed. “I think it's funny! If anyone should be embarrassed, it’s me. She’ll be telling this story to every single family member and then some!” He sat down behind him, tied his arm around Alex's middle and pulled him into an embrace. “Stop worrying, babe! My mom,” he explained while placing a tender kiss to his nape, “is a rebel at heart. So, don’t think about outing me or whatever. It’s alright! She's probably happy about the fact that I'm dating a guy.” 

Alex was unconvinced. 

“Not dating,” Miles corrected quickly himself. “Doing. No – oh, you know what I mean!” 

Did he? And was that really the question that mattered right this moment? He'd made a bloody fool of himself in front of Miles' mother! “I really wanted her to like me!” 

“She does like you! Very much,” professed Miles. “Keeps asking me about you all the time. Come to dinner with us and you’ll see.” 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Alex tried to relax in his arms as he closed his eyes and breathed him in. Miles had very nice, very comforting arms. Warm and strong and long enough to wrap all the way around him. He settled comfortably into his hold and felt his taut shoulders yielding against him. 

“I understand if you think it's not something we do. It being just sex and all that. But remember, we're also friends.” 

That wasn’t why he was hesitating! He turned his head to look at him. “I'm not sure she wants me there!” 

“She does! And I do, too,” he admitted, looking strikingly shy at the moment. 

Reaching up, fascinated, Alex put the tip of his finger to Miles' cheek and softly traced a path towards the curve of his upper lip. The shyness fell from his face and was replaced by something that Alex was scared to name but couldn’t look away from. It made him feel the funniest, oddest things. Most of all, it made him feel less worried. And he gave in. “Okay.” 

That emotion on Miles’ face got stronger. And he smiled bashfully. “Yes?” 

Alex nodded. He placed his hand behind his neck and pulled, eager for a kiss. For any kind of contact, really. At this moment, he felt overcome by a need to feel him in any way possible. “We got an hour, right?” 

“An hour,” murmured Miles, intensifying the kiss. 

“Let's make good use of it, then.” 

. 

They were late. Ten minutes late, all because they'd made the grave mistake of sharing a shower after sex. It hadn't led to more sex. He wished it had. In that case, they’d have been on time! 

Oh no. What they had done? It was bloody ridiculous, truly. 

They had sung and danced along to _Britney Spears_ songs. 

The fancy hotel room had speakers everywhere, including the bathroom, and for some reason that lacked all understanding, Miles had decided to use it to play Britney's greatest hits, beginning with the classic _Baby One More Time_. 

That had caused a very soapy Alex to almost drop to the wet and slippery ground from laughing once Miles had begun swaying his hips to the tune. It had been the silliest, bizarre thing he'd ever witnessed. 

Alex had promptly joined in. 

Five songs later, a bit breathless and alarmingly late, they'd scrambled to get dressed and had hurried down towards the lobby. From there, they’d beelined into the restaurant, where Pauline Kane had been waiting patiently, sipping red wine. 

“Boys, you've both decided to join me. How very nice. I worried you'd leave me hanging. I was tempted to come and find you, but I didn't want to intrude into your sex life.” 

As Miles rolled his eyes, Alex blushed profusely. “That's not…we…uh–” 

She smiled as she held up a hand. “All's good, Alex. Just kidding.” 

“We got a bit sidetracked by music,” explained Miles, pulling out the chair for Alex. 

“Thank you.” He sat down as if Miles doing that was the most normal thing in the world. Only, as Alex reached for the menu, it occurred to him how strange it must all look to her. He glanced up and found her observing him. “I'd like to apologize for the way in which I entered Miles' room earlier.” 

“By using your own key?” 

_What?_

“That's n—” He couldn't say that it wasn't his key, could he? Admitting that he'd paid good money to have a maid pretend she'd lost hers, just so he could slip into Miles' room whenever he felt the need for it would not help his case at all. “I presumed Miles was alone in the room.” 

“That, I figured.” She seemed awfully entertained by it all, found Alex. Not angry or bothered by the idea of her son having a sexual relationship with another man. Pauline smiled at him. “Is this just sex or are you dating?” 

“Mother,” hissed Miles. 

“What?” Her tone turned defensive. “Just wondering! I mean, if you are dating, I'm happy about it. You never introduced your girlfriends to me. At least, with him, I'm able to say I've met your partner!” 

Alex would have loved to join in, to help Miles, or explain the status of their relationship. But what was the status of their relationship? He couldn't say. _Just sex_ sounded extremely insufficient. Dating, they weren’t, since he’d made it his mission to avoid precisely that! They weren’t sleeping over in each other’s rooms. He _tried_ to keep their extra-friendship activities contained to the night. But it wasn’t working out so well anymore. They were slipping up more and more often. They were hugging and holding hands and cuddling and kissing and doing all sorts of things that he’d planned on never doing with Miles. 

Miles had pulled out his fucking chair, for crying out loud! And he’d bloody enjoyed it! 

“Don’t get me wrong,” said Pauline, addressing Alex, “I like you very much.” 

The words ripped Alex out of his thoughts and sent him straight into another state of surprise. After their run-in from earlier, he was actually relieved to hear her say so. Miles had a point. They were friends, after all. And, as that, he liked to think his mother wasn’t objecting to him being in his son’s life. He’d come to find that Miles cared a great deal about his parents, his mother especially, and he didn’t want to be the cause for any riffs. 

“However,” she added, “you’re a guy. There go my chances of becoming a grandmother!” 

Miles lowered his head, covered his eyes with one hand, and sighed heavily. 

Alex was laughing. “There’s always adoption,” he quipped. 

She perked up. “That’s true!” 

“Would you stop?!” Miles peaked through spread fingers. 

“Gotta face the facts,” Alex continued, beginning to loosen up and starting to enjoy himself, “we’re at an age where he ought to consider it!” He was joking, of course. He was nowhere near ready to entertain that thought! But, this topic, he could handle with ease. His own mother loved to nag him about grandkids! He’d perfected the art of appeasing her without committing to anything. 

“Adoption, huh? So, you’ve thought about it?” Pauline’s face glazed over with excitement, apparently delighted by the prospect. 

He nodded, biting back the sly look he was tempted to toss at Miles, who looked positively petrified. “It is an option, is it not?” 

“True,” she agreed wholly. 

The waiter came and took their orders and as Pauline began to ask about the details of the Norwegian cuisine, Miles turned towards Alex, grumbling. “Kids?” 

“Would you relax?” 

“Should I be worried? You think about children? Shouldn’t you spend a night first?” 

“Seriously, calm down!” He chuckled, amused. “You look horrified. Believe me,” he assured, “you and l are lightyears away from that discussion! I don’t plan on children anytime soon! But we should really pray to all the dead rock stars out there that your mother never meets mine! If they join forces, we might as well marry now.” Miles’ shoulders seemed a little less tense as a smile appeared on his lips. It made Alex smile in return. “Thank you for making me join you for dinner.” 

“You’re welcome. I’m actually glad you’re here.” 

“Me, too.” He spotted an eyelash right underneath his left eye and raised his hand, gently brushing it away. “She’s quirky, your mom. A bit like you. I never know what to expect with her. I like that she’s very cool about me being a guy.” 

Miles leaned nearer towards him. “How would your parents react, if they knew?” 

“They’d be cool about you being a guy as well. But my mother would not let go of you. She’d tie you to a chair until she has every last bit of information she wants from you. And if she had overheard you making the kind of comment I made, she’d be washing your mouth with soap and then proceed to teach you how to properly speak to somebody.” Alex grinned. “They plan on attending the concert in Paris, so you’ll have something to look forward to!” 

“What’s it the two of you are whispering about?” asked Pauline. 

Alex kept his proximity to Miles, who’d finally regained his good mood and smiled at his mother. “Alex was telling me about his parents.” 

“They live in Sheffield, right? Miles told me. He talks a lot about you on the phone.” 

“He does?” Alex chuckled when he noted the blush on Miles’ cheeks. “Only good things, I hope.” 

“Oh, he’s gushing!” 

“I’m _not_ gushing,” muttered Miles. 

Alex was immensely thrilled. He placed his palm on his lover’s thigh and squeezed it comfortingly. He was instantly rewarded with a touch of Miles’, who placed his hand on top of it. 

“I wish I could stay for your concert tomorrow, but my friends and I are leaving for home in the early morning. This little city trip of ours played out quite nicely. I’m glad I’m able to have dinner with you tonight. And I’m glad you joined us, Alex.” 

“Thank you, Mrs. Kane.” 

“It’s Pauline, remember? Now that I’ve recovered from the bit of shock over finding out that my dear Miles volunteers as – what did you call it? _Fuck toy?_ I think we can resume our habit of first names.” 

Alex was back to laughing and Miles’ mortification had returned full force. 

. 

Alex had left him and his mother after dinner to offer them a chance to catch up. But, mostly, he’d needed a bit of a moment to himself to clear his head. The evening had been surprisingly nice. He’d gotten along astonishing well with Miles’ mother. The three of them had chatted and laughed and gossiped and between all of that, he and Miles had held hands underneath the table like a freaking newlywed couple! 

The latter part had caused him to call it an early night. He’d placed a quick kiss to Miles’ cheek, had hugged his mother, and then he’d all but scrambled into his room and taken a stiff drink. His head had been stuffed to the hilt with feelings and thoughts and they had all bounced off on each other like a raging crowd in a violent mosh pit. 

A part of him had been overjoyed that Miles’ mother accepted him in his son’s life, and not just as a friend. Another part of him had promptly taken offense at that, reminding him of the dangers of getting too close to people. He’d argued with himself in his head about the pros and cons of a relationship with Miles and whether one was even feasible, regardless of what he was or was not feeling for him. Remnants of his betrayed heart had made their presence known, recapping to him that trusting people always led to ruin and the tiny, eager bit of his heart that craved a bond with someone had spoken up for the first time in a damn long time, telling him that it was done withering away in the dark. 

As he’d sat on his bed, fighting a headache, he’d spotted the dried and shriveled rose that Miles had given to him a while ago. He’d placed it into Barbara Tuchman’s _The Guns_ _Of_ _August_ , the book Miles had told him to read. His gaze had wandered across the room and he’d spotted all sorts of things that he’d never consciously taken note of before. An old, frayed shirt that he’d snatched from Miles one night after the latter had gotten eager and had torn his one. He’d kept it and realized only now that he had no intention at all of ever returning it. He liked it too much. 

In the neck of his acoustic, wedged between two strings, a yellow guitar pick rested. Miles had given it to him when he’d come up with a chord variation in the midst of sex and they’d actually stopped doing it so he could grab Miles’ guitar and strum it out. Miles had watched him from his spot on the bed, amused and entertained at the same time. But he hadn’t stopped him or interrupted him once for half an hour until Alex had been satisfied with the sound and ready to resume their other activities. 

Two leather jackets rested in his suitcase. Miles’s jackets. His lover had no space left in his one, so he’d sheepishly knocked on his door the other day, asking if Alex had a few spare spots in his case left. 

“Send it off with the other luggage, the guitars and such,” he’d told him with a smirk. 

Miles had shaken his head, telling him, “what if I want to wear it tomorrow and it’s already in the next city?” 

Alex had grabbed the jackets from him and stuffed them into his case. 

As he watched them now, he found he liked that they were there. He liked it in the same way that Miles wore some of Alex’s bandanas on stage at times. 

His eyes landed on the keycard to Miles’ room and he swallowed hard. There was some fun in talking it out of strangers’ hands. And there was some sense of adventure in sneaking into Miles’ room. But it was also a testament to how far they’d come. It really wasn’t _just sex_ anymore, was it? 

. 

He slipped the keycard into the room’s lock, stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He stripped out of his jacket and his shoes and sat down on the foot of the bed, next to Miles’ feet, which were stuck out from underneath the sheet, and he grinned as he couldn’t help himself from tickling him. 

The sleeping figure next to him began to wiggle and groan and a minute later, Miles sat up, switched the lamp on and glared harshly. “That’s a fucking rude way to wake me up!” He moved the sheet away and edged closer towards him. Despite his grumpy words, his hands were soft and tender as they slid around his waist and his lips were sweet when they kissed his neck. “I didn’t expect you tonight,” murmured Miles, no longer grumbling. “You left so fast after dinner and you didn’t answer my text.” 

Text? 

Shit. He’d shut his phone off earlier. “Sorry about that.” 

Miles’ kisses got deeper. He suckled on the delicate skin underneath behind his ear and scored a moan. Alex’s eyes slowly fluttered shut. “You okay?” 

“We should talk about something.” Alex placed his hands on top of Miles’ and stopped him from undoing his shirt. He turned his head, to meet his eyes, only when he did, all courage failed him. He’d never seen anybody look at him like that. There was so much care, such deep concern, and an endless amount of trust in Miles’ expression that Alex couldn’t bring himself to say what he’d come for. Instead, he got selfish. He leaned in, kissed him and immersed himself in that luxurious feeling of being wanted and longed for. One arm curled around Miles’ neck and he shifted, pushed him back into the bed, to crawl on top of him. 

Miles smiled into the kiss as he rolled them over and when he let up, to look at him, Alex immediately reached for his head to bring his lips back down. 

A chuckle vibrated from Miles’ throat. His hand brushed lightly against Alex’s cheek. “What did you want to talk to me about? You got me curious.” 

“Just…” Alex shook his head. What was it that he wanted to discuss? The obvious? That they’d ventured too fast into forbidden territory? That they needed to slow down? Take a step back? A break, maybe? The thought sickened him. He didn’t want space, he wanted the opposite! 

Fuck! He no longer knew what he wanted! 

“Nothing of importance. Already forgot.” He kissed him again. Deeply. Distractingly. And something else entirely occurred to him. “It’s October, now.” 

More laughter from Miles. “It is, indeed. Solid observation.” 

Alex rolled his eyes. “Remember last year? I think it was the first Saturday of October that all went out to this club in London to party one last time before we left for Asia.” 

A distant smile appeared on Miles’ face as he nodded softly, reminiscing, “you and I were arguing the entire night. There wasn’t a single topic that didn’t start a new discussion!” 

“I gave you so much hell for the napkins!” 

Miles had sat at the bar by himself, furiously scribbling away on a dozen napkins. Notes, words, lyrics, everything. 

Alex had seen him do it from across the club, then he’d wandered over, to inspect closer, because he’d been curious and nosy and, honestly, the party hadn’t that been that interesting to begin with! He’d snatched some napkins out of his grasp, had read them and he’d been smug and condescending in his judgments. 

“You tried to change my song,” highlighted Miles, playfully pushing against Alex’s shoulder. 

“I did not,” protested Alex, grinning. “I just felt I could be of help!” 

He’d suggested a minor change to a line and it had set off a minutes-long back and forth of insults that had ended with Alex saying if Miles were a serious songwriter, he’d not be using napkins but carry a journal with him at all times for exactly these situations. 

Miles had replied by asking if Alex could lend him a spare page from his journal, which, as a serious songwriter, he was surely carrying with him. 

Alex had to confess that, no, he’d no journal with him. 

Another argument had unfolded until Jamie had pulled Alex away and Miles had gone off to dance with some woman. 

Their separation had lasted all but five minutes. Miles and the woman had stopped dancing, Alex had found his way back to the bar, back to Miles and his scribblings, and they’d bickered on. 

“I did use the word you suggested,” said Miles. His lips placed a feathery kiss to Alex’s jaw before he buried his face into the curve of his shoulder, to place firmer kisses there. “You were right about that line.” 

“You’d have gotten there eventually without my help,” Alex whispered. So close to him, there was no reason to speak louder. His fingers traced idle figures on Miles’ shoulder as Alex squeezed him against his side, slowly getting lost in that magnificent feeling of perfection, which always arrived in his presence. “The party was boring at best,” he recalled, “and the owner tried to kick us out a few times, remember? He wanted to lock up. But we didn’t leave. We stayed ‘til, like, after five a.m., or something like that.” 

“We spent the whole night together, even though we were arguing the entire time,” recalled Miles. 

Alex nodded. “It was somewhere between calling you a popstar and insulting your zebra print shirt that I realized that I was going to miss you a whole damn lot during the tour.” He snuck a glance at him and shrugged vaguely when he saw the stunned expression on Miles’ face. “And I did.” 

“Really?” Miles nestled closer. “Was that why you invited me to join you and the band at Burger Kind on your birthday?” 

Fidgeting now, finding himself admitting to something he hadn’t planned on ever confessing, Alex played with a loose tread on his own shirt. “It was the only weekend I was back in London before leaving for America.” 

Miles’ smile got bigger. His long arm wrapped all the way across his body, and his fingers dug into his side, keeping him impossibly close. His nose bumped Alex’s, drawing a reluctant smile. 

Miles was so very different from him at times. He didn’t freeze in emotional situations. Sometimes, he got shy or blushed, but that didn’t stop him. He didn’t hide and panic. He was infuriatingly fine with talking about feelings, to the point that Alex felt like an idiot for being incapable of being fine with it as well. And to make it worse, he never let Alex get away with hiding or retreating into his own head. Like a little puppy, he kept coming back to him. Kept smiling at him, kissing him, touching him until he gave in, usually with an eye-roll, and spilled even more of his heart, despite wanting to do the very contrary. 

It wasn’t the only thing that Miles did that Alex found irritating. There were plenty of things! Miles got way too happy about the smallest, most insignificant things! Like last week, when Alex had dropped by with headphones after Miles had mentioned that his were broken and he didn’t have time to get new ones. It wasn’t as though Alex had gone through trouble or anything. He’d been on his way to an interview with the band and they had passed a small electronics store. So, he’d asked the driver to stop for a moment and he’d quickly slipped in to buy some. It had been unworthy of even being mentioned but Miles had given him a big kiss and he’d beamed like he’d received a bloody gift from Paul McCartney himself! 

Because of headphones! 

The same thing happened a few days ago when they’d all been out to dinner to some exotic restaurant that served fancy, colorful drinks. His had come with a red cocktail cherry and since he knew that Miles loved them so much, he’d offered his to him. Miles had looked at him as though he’d gotten him a damn Ferrari! 

Or just the other day, when both had been bored and everyone else had been busy or uninterested in doing anything. They’d ventured into a big supermarket to kill time. He really didn’t know why, but for some inane reason, Alex had held on to Miles’ hand. Probably a reflex-thing or something. ‘Cause, honestly, holding hands while strolling through a supermarket? It was ridiculous! At any rate, he’d done it and he’d held on to Miles’ hand until they’d reached the register. Miles had paid for the few items they’d gotten as Alex had bagged them, and then, for truly no reason at all, he’d immediately grabbed his hand again, and when he’d done it, Miles had smiled at him. Not just smiled. But _smiled_! He’d been so bloody happy that Alex hadn’t been able to not smile as well. 

Fucking silly! 

Miles’ lips got hungrier and placed a fierce kiss right below his jawbone, causing a little shudder to shoot up Alex’s spine. He felt him grin against his skin. “We didn’t see each other again until Glastonbury this spring.” 

“When you made fun of me with that dick from that no-name band.” He was trying to ignore everything Miles was doing to him, but damnit! His guy was good! 

“I only did that,” muttered Miles between kisses, “because I was drunk—” 

“And you said you were in a bad place,” Alex recalled. 

“I might have lied a little bit about that,” admitted Miles coyly, actively avoiding Alex’s curious gaze all of sudden. “Remember how you came to watch my show? I hadn’t seen you in months and I wasn’t prepared to see you then. I wasn’t even aware that you were backstage. As far as I knew, you guys wouldn’t show up ‘til later that night. I was playing my set, taking a look around and there you were. You were wearing a leather jacket and tight jeans and you were just watching me play and I found myself thinking, _‘he looks so fucking hot!’_ It completely threw me for a loop. For a moment, I couldn’t stop staring at you and I had this uncontrollable urge to just walk up to you and kiss you. And I realized that I’d bloody missed you, too! I messed up the lyrics and…” 

“I made fun of you for that.” 

Miles had missed him, too? Alex hadn’t been wrong, then? He still remembered standing side-stage, watching him play. He remembered how their eyes had met and how he’d suddenly felt feverish and cold at the same time. He’d been staring and he’d felt caught, but, at the same time, he hadn’t been able to stop staring. And he’d been so sure that Miles had given him a look. One that, at that time, he hadn’t been capable of definitively deciphering. He’d brushed it off as some fond look, some look that indicated that he’d been happy about the return his sparring partner. Now, though? Alex flipped them over. He climbed out of bed. 

Miles quickly sat up, irritated. “Are you leaving now?” 

Alex hurried out of his shirt, tossed his pants and his briefs. Then he grabbed Miles’ neck, bringing their foreheads together as he leaned into him. “Imagine being back on that stage. Imagine it exactly as it was. You say you wanted to kiss me? How would you have done it? Show me. Show me and know that I wouldn’t have stopped you. If you had kissed me then, I swear I wouldn’t have stopped you!” 

Miles leaped off the bed, grabbed Alex’s ass and lifted him off the ground. It took just a single stride to reach the wall and he pressed him up against it, pulled his legs around his middle, and he plunged his tongue so deep into his mouth that Alex found himself struggling for air as he longed to drown in his kisses at the same time. 

Miles lowered Alex onto the nearby dresser, not bothering with care as he shoved the decorative plant out of the way to make room. As the pot burst into shards, Alex laughed throatily. “Should have kissed me then,” he said, moaning between words, eyes fluttering. “On stage.” 

Miles chuckled between ravenous kisses. “That would have caused a scandal! It would have been live porn!” 

“It would have been a show for the ages,” grinned Alex. 

“We’d have made history,” smirked Miles. 

Alex grabbed his head as Miles grabbed Alex’s cock. He inhaled sharply, eyes locked on him, as Miles began to stroke him. Slow and gentle. It made him lose all hold on his thoughts, it made him sink into a pile of lust and it made never want to get up again. His fingers threaded through the short strands of hair on Miles’ head as he pressed their foreheads together, gazing into his infinite eyes and realizing too late that he no longer knew the way out. 

Miles brought his mouth to Alex’s and coaxed his lips into a provocative dance. 

Flushed, breathless and dizzy, both of them got restless and needier by the second. Alex raised his legs up as Miles placed them over his shoulders, and then he pushed inside, drawing a loud groan from Alex as he carefully slid all the way in, inch by inch, until Alex felt him everywhere. 

He looked down between them, watched, together with Miles, as their bodies moved in perfect sync, as though they had always been meant to do this. Then they kissed again, and all conscious thought slipped from his head, leaving nothing but sheer, unfiltered desire behind. “Fuck me harder,” begged Alex. “Fuck me like you’ve never fucked me before.” 

And Miles did. It was wild and loud and sweaty and dirty, and it left them out of breath and drained of energy. They tumbled from the dresser to the bed, then to the window, changed positions on the couch and finally, two boneless, exhausted bodies sank to the ground, grinning stupidly. Miles rested with his head against the side of the bed, as Alex lowered his head onto Miles’ thighs, sighing blissfully as he was sprawled out on the floor. 

Minutes passed as they just rested, catching their breaths, Then, Miles reached for his nightstand and opened the top drawer, pulling out a sheet of paper. “Found it my suitcase. Did you put it there?” 

Alex glanced at it. “Yep.” 

It was a list of classical music pieces, ranging from famous to almost entirely unknown. He’d made it a few days ago and had wanted to give it to Miles in Moscow but he’d never gotten around to doing it and eventually, he’d just slipped it into his suitcase. 

“Are you trying to widen my musical horizon?” Miles lowered his head and pecked Alex’s lips with a grin. “I’ll have you know I know most of these pieces.” 

“Just a stupid list,” Alex stated, more interested in Miles’ lips than in explaining it. “I ruined your book for you. Made you like it. But, you said you like listening to things when you can’t fall asleep, so I thought some classical music will do the trick. I had considered a list of poems, but I didn’t know how to get them onto your phone. These,” he said, tapping the list, “you can find on that music app you use.” 

Miles leaned up. 

Alex groaned in protest. He sat up to meet his eyes. “You don’t have to. Trash it if you want. Don’t care.” 

But Miles shook his head. “It’s got annotations on it, Alex. It’s not just names and works. It’s got references and you mention a poem! It must have taken you some time to write it all down!” 

There it was again. That unfounded, big and wide expression of wonder. Like Miles had caught him performing a bloody miracle or something. “It’s not a big deal. Some works only make sense when you know the background. Like _Clair de lune_ , it is based on a poem. So, I mentioned the poem. I didn’t thumb through any books or whatever. I read the poem and remembered it. You’re making this into something it’s not!” 

“I’m not making this into anything, Alex. I’m saying this is…it’s fucking nice gesture!” 

“It’s a piece of paper.” He reached for his pants. 

Miles got up. “You’re right. It’s time we call it a night.” With a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, he leaned in for a kiss that scarcely lasted a few seconds. 

What? He’d reached for his pants to grab his phone, to show him that he’d all of the songs on there. To prove that he hadn’t gone through any kind of trouble or effort to make the list! 

The thought of leaving hadn’t even crossed his mind. Weird, now that he thought about it. But Miles was probably right. They should call it a night. It was late, after all. And he felt genuinely exhausted. So exhausted, in fact, that he’d almost fallen asleep in Miles’ arms a moment ago. 

Strangely, he’d had no desire to leave. Stranger, even, he’d have liked to have fallen asleep in Miles’ arms. 

He put his pants on, instead. “Lunch tomorrow?” 

“We can’t. Concert day? You’re booked all day for interviews. Did you forget?” 

He’d certainly tried to! There went his good mood. “Awesome.” 

Miles kissed him again, sweeter, this time. “What’s a day, right? We’ll be back here in no time.” 

He rolled his eyes but grinned, nonetheless. “Eternal optimist. Night, babe!” 

“Night,” whispered Miles 

.

.

**Spoiler Chapter 21:**

#

“You’re the one who said I should go out more. Live a little. I’m living a little. I’m available to you all the fucking time. Text me, call me, knock on my door when the sun is up. Try doing that. The nights,” declared Alex, “are mine.” And they would remain his! 

“Is Miles part of your nights?” 

“Careful, Jamie.” Alex’s tone was glacial. “We’ve never asked these questions before. Let’s not start now.” 

#

Alex shrugged out his jacket, closed the distance between them, and pulled Miles’ confused face in for a kiss that he had no intention of ever ending. “I don’t want you to leave me alone,” he whispered between brushes of their lips. “Don’t ever do it!” 

#


	21. The Eerie Storm

** Thank you all so much for your kind words, your kudos and your love for this story! Here's another chapter. Enjoy! ❤️ **

**Early October 2018**

**Oslo**

Alex sat on the couch, wedged between Nick and Jamie, wondering what he’d done wrong in his life to deserve this. Across from him, the interviewer, some Norwegian magazine’s reporter, flipped through pages of his notes, impatiently, searching for something. Matt, sitting next to Matt, rolled his head back with a sigh. Jamie, as Alex could tell from years of experience, was on the verge of falling asleep. And Nick, polite guy that he was, attempted to help the poor fellow out. 

“Just ask us whatever you want. The album has been out for over a year. I doubt you can ask anything that hasn’t been asked before, anyway.” 

Alex snorted at that. “I’d be amazed if anyone, ever, asked anything that hasn’t been asked before at some point! That’d be a nice change!” 

Jamie hit him in the ribs with his elbow. 

“What? It’s true!” 

“Be nice,” he hissed. 

Four hours into this morning, uncomfortable on this bloody modern wannabe couch, and bored witless, Alex had no interest in being nice. He wanted out. He wanted his freedom back. He wanted fresh air, a tall glass of ice-cold Coke, a nice steak and some alone time with Miles. Miles first, preferably. 

The guy across cleared his throat. “Um…well…some question. How’s the new album coming along?” 

“Better than we thought,” assured Jamie. “We’re finishing with the tour soon and if everything goes well, we’ll be in the studio early next year.” 

Oh, they were? 

Funny. 

Alex didn’t know that part. 

What songs would they record? Somebody should tell him. 

“Will you keep the direction of this album or change into something different?” asked the guy. 

“We’ll remain who we are,” said Matt. “But every album is different.” 

“Is it now?” asked Alex. 

This time, it was Nick who pinched his side. And not in a friendly manner. He spoke up. “The new album will be a classic _Arctic Monkeys_ record, but it will hopefully be something that our fans consider a fresh and new next step.” 

_A what now?_

He scoffed hard on the inside, angry and eager to deliver a few harsh words. Somebody had fed his band these bullshit lines about an album that didn’t exist. His band, his bandmates, didn’t talk like that. If they described music, they spoke like musicians, not like PR people. 

“Well,” the reporter said, “I am looking forward to it. Last question. Alex, if I may ask you, over the years there have been some rumors that you and Miles Kane, frankly, can’t stand the sight of each other. But a few days ago, in Moscow, you were photographed in a rather intimate embrace. Does that imply you two are friends after all? Or does it speak for something else?” 

Alex sat motionless, debating inwardly whether or not to punch him for his badly executed, highly intrusive question about his sex life. Then again, he was just as tempted to be as brutally honest as he could be and describe, in great detail, what wonderful hand-job he’d given Miles during the cab ride after that picture he’d referenced had been taken. 

That ought to put some blush on his cheeks, wouldn’t it? 

And maybe some regret? 

“They’ve always been friends,” said Nick. 

Alex bit his tongue. What was it with his band today? Did they believe he couldn’t answer for himself anymore? “Miles and I are friends. And that’s the extent of what I’ll say to that. But, while we’re at it getting things on record, how about you apologize for stepping way beyond the line?” 

“For asking a question about a picture taken at a public place?” 

“If you need me to explain to you why I deserve an apology, I feel sorry for you. You came to talk to us about music and tour. We’ve fulfilled our part of the arrangement. You failed to uphold your end of the deal. Have a nice day. This interview is over.” He got up and walked over to the door, opening it. “Leave now.” 

Five minutes of hell and some desperate attempts at ruffling anymore of Alex’s feathers later, the interviewer left the room. Alex all but roared once the door fell shut behind him. “The fuck was that, huh?” 

“That’s what I’d like to know, Alex?!” Jamie got up as well, stretched his limbs. “We expected these questions. So, we came up with some answers.” 

“Who is _we_ , Jamie? ‘Cause I wasn’t there!” 

“Marianne said—” 

“That woman should watch what she’s doing! This is _my_ band! Not hers! She doesn’t decide when we go to the studio. She doesn’t decide when the album will drop and, most importantly, she doesn’t decide _how_ we will sound like!” 

“She’s doing her job,” sneered Matt. 

Nick interjected. “She’s just trying to help.” 

“She’s fucking crossing the line! Seems to be the theme of the day.” 

“And what are we supposed to say? Huh? Be honest?” Jamie shook his head. 

Alex glared. “Why the fuck not? What’s so fucking bad about being honest? I don’t have the songs. There’s no album in our near future. We don’t have any plans to record anything—” 

“She booked a studio,” Nick told him. 

Jamie sighed. “And she contacted some songwriters.” 

Alex stared at them in shock. After a moment of letting the words sink in, he calmly addressed the band. “I will not sing somebody else’s songs.” 

“This isn’t your band, Alex.” Matt grabbed his jacket and moved to the door. “We are equal partners.” 

He rolled his eyes, turning towards him. “Of course, we are. You know what I mean!” 

“I’m not sure I do.” 

“Matt!” Alex called after him, but his drummer left the room without looking back. He’d never done that before. Not once, in over fifteen years. He faced the others. “Do you agree with him?” 

Nick shrugged as he followed Matt out. Jamie stayed behind. “Something needs to happen, Alex.” 

“No, Jamie.” What didn’t they understand? “We don’t have any pressure to release anything. We’re not even done with this tour! We’ve never said this kind of shit before! We were always honest. We never lied. I know I fucked up when I kept that shit about not having any new songs to myself. I was embarrassed, okay? I felt like a fucking failure! And it’s really hard for me to say this out loud. But why can’t we say that we don’t know when the album will drop? Why not take a year off? You yourself told me to take a decade if need be!” 

“I know what I said.” Jamie sat back down, shoulders falling down. “What if it doesn’t stop at a year, Alex. What if we…” 

Alex felt cold, all of sudden. “You’re worried we’re done?” 

“Not yet. Not now… I don’t know, Alex. Done, no. It used to feel different, did it not? You told me that.” 

He sat down next to him. “The last weeks went so well.” 

“They went well because we stopped discussing shit. You’re never around anyway. The second the gig is done, you vanish! If you come along for drinks, you get drunk in a hurry and slip away as fast as you can! Where the hell are you going to, anyway? ‘Cause we’ve knocked on your door a few times. You ain’t there.” 

So, he liked spending his nights with Miles. He was not going to apologize for having a life outside the band. And he was definitely not going to apologize for enjoying every last second of it! “You’re the one who said I should go out more. Live a little. I’m living a little. I’m available to you all the fucking time. Text me, call me, knock on my door when the sun is up. Try doing that. The nights,” declared Alex, “are mine.” And they would remain his! 

“Is Miles a part of your night?” 

“Careful, Jamie.” Alex’s tone was glacial. “We’ve never asked these questions before. Let’s not start now.” 

He nodded resignedly. “Know what else we’ve never done before? Pissed reporters off.” 

“He crossed the line. Not the other way around.” 

“Then feed him a bullshit line or crack a joke at his expense. Don’t kick him out!” 

“I’ve reached a point in my life where I no longer feel like playing nice all the bloody time.” 

“Oh,” scoffed Jamie, “when have you _ever_ played nice?” 

“Too often,” assured Alex. 

There was a knock on the door. Then it opened. Marianne slipped inside. “I was able to save a little bit. Told him you were tired and in a bad mood.” 

“Not a lie for once,” sneered Alex. “Speaking of which, I’d appreciate it if you stopped feeding your shit to my band!” 

“Stop, Alex!” Jamie stepped in front of him, blocking his view of her. “We make our own decisions. She didn’t force us to do anything.” 

He shrugged. “Well, then. In that case, I’d appreciate it if _you_ stopped spreading shit about my band!” 

“ _Our_ band,” corrected Jamie. 

“See you on stage tonight,” bit Alex, slamming the door shut on his way out. 

-

“Why are we here?” Alex placed his chin on Miles’ shoulder, sliding his hand over his thigh, rolling his eyes as they sat in the VIP booth of some fancy club in Oslo. They’d gone here after the concert. Not that he minded being out with him, but somewhere, not far away, their bands were as well, alongside some people from management. And after the day he’d had, those were not the people he wanted to spend time with at the moment. 

Miles frowned. “You wanted to come here. Something about the DJ and his unique take on pop music and expressionism. You’ve been talking about it for weeks.” His eyes fell shut when Alex’s wandering hand neared dangerously sensitive territory. “You must stop!” 

Alex kept going, fingers brushing what he knew would become a nice and eager erection to play with. “Give me one good reason.” 

“Somebody could see.” 

“Miles,” said Alex, annoyed. “We’ve already had that discussion.” 

“About strangers.” Miles covered his hand with his own and moved it away. “This club is full of people we know.” 

And Alex found he cared less and less about that. This fucking day could come to an end, for all he cared. He was tired, wound up tight, bordering on irate because that bloody tension inside the band was bothering the shit out of him and to make matters worse, he no longer knew how or what he felt for Miles and it was driving him fucking insane! 

Every time he was near him, everything began to spiral out of control. Nothing in his world made sense anymore. The sun suddenly shone brighter, the cold weather seemed warm and even the shitty rain ceased to bother him! He couldn’t get any sleep unless he’d spent an excessive amount of the night in his arms, and even then, he still wanted more. He was restless when they were unable to make time for another for a longer period of time. And for the first time in years, he suddenly hated waking up alone in bed. 

Alex put his hand back on Miles’ leg, making a statement of it. “They’re not here now.” His lips went to his neck. He kissed him there. “Go home with me.” 

“You don’t want to wait for his set to start?” 

“No, Miles! I don’t give a shit about the DJ. I want to get out of here. I want you, alone, naked, and hard. I want to be anywhere but here. I want—” 

“Hey,” whispered Miles, once again covering his hand with his. This time, though, instead of stopping the touch, he deepened it, linked their fingers and brushed the side of his hand softly with his thumb. “Talk to me. What’s going on?” 

He scoffed. “I had a bad day. I don’t want to talk about it. I’m sure you’ll read all about it in the news tomorrow. Alex Turner being an asshole to a poor little reporter or some shit like that!” 

When Miles raised their hands from his leg, he was tempted to object, even to dig his nails in, but Miles moved their aligned arms around his stomach and scooted closer towards Alex, surprising him. He turned to meet his eyes. “I’m sure he had it coming.” 

A snort. “You’re the only one, then.” 

Miles let go abruptly and scooted away. Alex startled. “Jamie is coming up.” 

Another eye-roll. When Alex noted the curious expression on Jamie’s face, he briefly pondered kissing Miles just for the shock value of it but decided against it. He made room between them, instead. Patted the spot. Forced a smile. “Would you like a seat?” 

Marianne and Nick arrived as well. “I take it,” she said. 

She sat down. 

Alex got up. He moved a few steps away, pointedly. 

Matt joined them. 

Alex felt like a lion, caged in, poked by sticks and ensnared by blood-dripping meat. He sensed infinite trouble, which he was bound to get into, thickening the air. And there was so very little desire in him to resist any of it. He ticked his jaw. 

Miles must have noted the shift in the atmosphere as well. He got up. “Anyone care for a smoke? Alex?” 

He hesitated a moment, then relented. “Yeah, sure.” 

A huff. 

He had a hunch it came from Jamie, who remarked, “of course you follow him out. Will you return or disappear for the rest of the night?” 

“Alex,” said Miles, a warning in his tone, as well as a hint of confusion. 

“It’s alright. He can’t help himself,” concluded Alex. “Just as I can’t help myself. Right? We always argue. Right?! Oh, wait. No. We fucking NEVER argue, Jamie. At least we never did. Not until recently. Not until I no longer worked the way you want me to work! Suddenly you stop being my friend!” 

“That’s fucking shit and you know it!” Jamie gritted his teeth. “I’ve never been anything but your friend! I’m fucking worried about you. That’s what’s happening! I no longer recognize you! The Alex that used to be my friend was always writing and playing new music and concerned about rehearsals and delivering a perfect show. The fuck happened to that guy, huh?” 

“He’s still here! But after fifteen years of nothing but writing and playing and rehearsing, I think I’m entitled to a little bit of a break! And I thought, as my friend, you’d understand! Boy, was I mistaken! What about the rest of you, huh?” He took a look around. “Are you my friends? Or are you pissed off I’m no longer delivering the hits for you? Isn’t that why you’re all so fucking eager to work with a songwriter? God forbid the band takes a break or something!” 

“That’s not true,” bit Matt. 

“Then tell me what’s true,” shot Alex. “’Cause I’d really like to know! Why the fuck are we listening to some money-hungry manager bitch who thinks she knows what’s best for us?” 

“She’s a pro,” stated Nick. “She’s doing her job and she’s doing it well. Without her—” 

“Without her,” Alex interjected, “we’d be exactly where we are today.” 

“Without me,” Marianne spoke coolly, “you’d be out of anyone’s head. You’d be some indie band on the verge of being forgotten. I keep you in the papers.” 

A bitter scoff from Alex. “Hear that, guys? In the papers. Isn’t that where we always wanted to end up in?” 

“That’s how the world works, Alex,” Jamie spoke. “Maybe it’s time you accept that you don’t know everything. Maybe it’s time you accept you don’t _decide_ everything.” 

“Maybe it’s time we end things, then.” 

Alex’s words were an intricate glass figurine, bursting into a million tiny pieces, shattering in front of everybody’s shocked face. 

Jamie was the first to snap out of it. “Fucking asshole! That’s how much all of it means to you?” 

“Yes,” seethed Alex. “That’s how much it means to me!” 

“Your way or no way?” 

Alex shook his head. “You really don’t get it, do you? Leave me the fuck alone until you do!” He grabbed his jacket and headed for the exit. “That’s a general advice. All of you, leave me alone. Let’s finish this fucking sham of a tour and end this bullshit once and for all!” 

\- 

Alex stood in front of Miles’ hotel room door, still seething, although for an entirely different reason now. He’d waited by the cabs at the side of the club for half an hour for Miles to appear. He’d believed he’d take his side, or, at the very least, check up on him. Maybe even follow him to the hotel. Miles loved talking. He had guessed he’d at least suggest it. But nothing. Bloody nothing. 

Not one single little sign of Miles. 

Not for thirty minutes. 

Then he’d returned into the club, only to find that all of his band, as well as Miles, had taken a joined car ride back. 

He knocked hard. Repeatedly. “Hey, fucking open up!” 

“Hey what?” Miles pulled the door open. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Alex stormed past him. “I waited for you! Outside the club. For fucking half an hour, I stood there, by the damn cabs, like a bloody idiot, waiting for you to come. Why didn’t you?” 

Miles spun around and slammed the door shut. “Stop yelling at me,” he snapped back. “I didn’t come to find you because you made it very clear that you wanted to be left alone! You said _all_!” 

“Yes,” agreed Alex, not getting the issue, staring at Miles. 

“So, I left you alone!” 

“For fuck’s sake,” he shot, “I said it to the rest of the world. I didn’t say it to you!” As the words left his mouth, he suddenly understood why Miles hadn’t come to him. In Alex’s head, Miles wasn’t part of everyone else. He held a special place in his life. He never needed to be invited to anything. In his head, he was always invited by default, because he was Miles. He never needed to ask for permission, since there was nothing that Alex would deny him. He never had to go away, because Alex never wanted him to leave. And when Alex wanted to be alone, he still wanted to be with Miles. Because, somehow, Alex could be alone even when Miles was in the same room with him. 

Shrugging out his jacket, closing the distance between them, he pulled Miles’ confused face in for a kiss that he had no intention of ever ending. “I don’t want you to leave me alone,” he whispered between brushes of their lips. “Don’t ever do it!” 

Miles shook his head. “Never.” 

They were kissing again. This time, though, it felt like nothing he’d ever experienced before. 

As Alex’s hands fisted into the fine fabric of Miles’ shirt, he got to know an entirely new urgency to it all. It wasn’t so much the need to get him naked, to sink into him or even to surrender to the pleasure of it all. This time, more than ever, he craved to be held by him whilst lost in throes of passion. He yearned for the feeling of Miles’ hot breath as it crashed against his skin. He longed for the whispered little words that drove him insane. And, above all, he needed his lips. His kiss. 

Alex took a step back and curled his hand around Miles’, tugging him along towards the bed. Fingers went to the little buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one, with endless patience. He took his time, kept his eyes on Miles’, and was amazed by the colors that he found there, mixing and melting together like notes in a song. “You’re always on my mind,” he whispered. “From the moment you entered it, I’ve been trying to get you out of there, and I’ve been failing ever since.” 

Miles lowered his head, observed Alex as he reached the halfway mark of his shirt’s buttons. “And now?” he asked carefully. 

“Now?” A tiny smile appeared on Alex’s lips as he stepped closer. “Now I’m done trying.” He felt him inhale sharply and wondered if his words had caused that reaction, or maybe his fingers had done it by brushing his heated skin. He leaned in and kissed his collar bone. Then again. 

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Miles squatted Alex’s hands away as he rid himself of his shirt impatiently. Once done, he wrapped one arm around Alex’s back, hauling him against his body, and placed the other hand behind his head, to bring their lips together. 

Laughing into the kiss, Alex curled both arms around Miles’ neck and refused to surrender to his hunger. “We have all the time in the world, babe,” he hushed. “Let’s take it.” 

And they did. 

They basked in each other, got lost in kisses and got sidetracked by touches. They paused and lingered and began anew. And as they drove each other into a state of utter pleasure, Alex found that, for the first time, Miles’ kisses were different, too. They lost a bit of their old flavor, became less about the heat of the moment. Instead, they began to taste of time and space. They carried a note of the future. 

They were founded on trust and no longer based on lust. As Alex slipped slowly into Miles, he entwined their hands and gripped them tight. Their eyes were on each other, gazing deeply. Just yesterday, he’d been prepared, almost, to put a stop to it all. To pause, to reassess, to slow down. Now, though? He couldn’t even let go of his hands! And he didn’t want to, either! His whole world had come tumbling down today. Lifelong friends had turned their back on him and a future that had, admittedly, seemed distant suddenly no longer existed. 

And it was okay. 

He’d deal with it all in a bit. In a few days, maybe. When the dust had settled, he’d take a long look at the rubble and find out if anything was worth saving or holding onto. But until then? He’d take a break from life. He was fed up with it, anyway. For the moment, he’d fucking screw it all and just enjoy. He’d be selfish and reckless and he’d do something that he hadn’t done in years – he’d take a leap. 

What was left to hold onto, anyway? If he had to rebuild his life, start over and move on, he might as well do it properly and risk something! 

Fuck slowing down! 

Fuck being worried all the time! 

For a decade, he’d been perfect. He’d been an asshole, he’d been cold, and he’d been mean. But he’d been a fucking professional! He’d excelled at his job. He’d delivered. On and off stage. And what had that gotten him? It had gotten him jobless. 

For a decade, he’d kept his emotions at bay. He’d kept his heart locked up. He’d been cautious and careful and catastrophically lonely at times. For what? For bloody nothing! 

That shit ended tonight. 

He kissed Miles deeply, let their lips become one and moaned into his mouth as his thrusts turned frantic. “Sit up! Hold onto me,” he spoke through grunts of pleasure and breathless desire. 

Miles did. He clung to him, wrapped his arms and legs around him and Alex placed both hands on his ass to guide him, to set the pace and to move with him in perfect sync. 

“That’s it,” rasped Alex. “Ride me, babe! Ride me hard and fast!” 

Their movements became untamed, wild and unrestrained. They grabbed each other, dug their nails in, left marks and kissed harder. 

“Alex, yes! Fuck me!” 

“Shit, babe! Feels so good! Fuck, yes!” 

They came together, hard and vigorously, and fell into bed with molten bones and stripped of oxygen. Rolling over onto his stomach, flying on his orgasmic high, Miles propped his head upon his arm. A lazy smile developed, growing gradually, as bit by bit their breathing returned to normal. “Wow.” 

Alex, resting on his stomach, grinned rascally. “Thank you. You, too.” Reaching out, he curled his hand around Miles’ neck, casually keeping it there. “I meant what I said, earlier. When I say I want to be left alone, that doesn’t apply to you.” Miles’ eyes widened in surprise and Alex’s heart began to flutter. “No matter what, you’re always welcome.” 

**Christmas 2016**

**London**

“ _No, mom. I can’t make it tonight.” Alex sat at the table for two, which sported a seasonal decoration that he found gaudy to say the least, and shook his head. What a miserable sight he must make! “The last train left. I don’t feel like driving now.” Considering his slightly elevated blood alcohol level, the police would applaud that assessment! “And, truly, I’m not some depressed bucket of tears. I’m not even at home right now! I’m out. I’m amongst people.”_

_Penny Turner sighed, disagreeing audibly. “It’s Christmas Eve, sweetheart. I don’t like the thought of you being all alone tonight. That’s all.”_

_Well, he hadn’t planned on being that. But his ex-girlfriend – generous that term may be – had decided to spend the holidays with her family. She had invited him. He’d declined, citing disinterest. She’d dumped him. Now he sat at the restaurant’s table, which he’d reserved for the two of them, alone. “The world won’t end because of it.”_

_His mother began a long and winding story about a relative, no doubt a move to keep him entertained, which he appreciated and found irritating at the same time. But she was his mother and he knew better than to disagree with her. As he listened, paying only the barest amount of attention, his gaze wandered across the almost empty room. Here and there, a few people sat and ate. But most tables were empty. And from the looks of it, the dozen or so people that had found their way in here had all come in the company of someone or more. All except one. One lonely guy sat a few tables away._

_A chuckle escaped him. Maybe the guy suffered from the same fate he did._

_He took a double-take._

_Shit!_

“ _Miles?”_

“ _Miles is there?”_

_Fuck! He’d said his name out loud. “Yes, mom, he’s here,” he admitted. “Alone.” Goddamnit, why’d he told her that?_

“ _Give him the phone.”_

_Alex blinked, recoiled from mere suggestion. “What’s that?”_

“ _The phone, Alex. This device, which you’re currently speaking into. Hand it to him! Please.”_

_She couldn’t be serious! He ground his teeth. “I will not–”_

“ _Now, Alexander.”_

“ _Yes, mother.” He had an unnatural fear of her whenever she used his full name, something she hardly ever did. But when that moment arrived, he knew what he had to do._

_Head lowered in embarrassment, Alex got up, grabbed his glass of wine, walked over to his table and sat down._

_Miles’ eyes went wide. Understandably._

“ _Turner?” He blinked. “What the hell?”_

“ _I know.” Alex held out the phone. “Don’t ask. For you.” He wiggled it in front of him impatiently. “Fucking take it already!” He rolled his eyes. “Come on!”_

_Skeptically, Miles grabbed the phone. Brought it to his ear. “Hello?” Surprise appeared on his face. Then a warm smile._

_Alex grumbled as he kept sipping his wine._

“ _Merry Christmas to you as well,” said Miles, nodding at something his mother must have said. “Oh, that’s very true. I’ll let my mother know. No, I’ll be heading home in the morning… Yes, I’ll let him know that you’re very worried about him.” His persistently smug features turned devilish and twisted. He stared directly at him. “Your dearest little Alley…”_

_Alex swallowed the rest of his wine in one large gulp. He’d have to have a firm chat with his mother about the use of his most-hated nickname. He’d managed to keep it hidden for over a decade._

_Miles hung up the phone and held it up for him. “For you. Alley.”_

_Until now. “Fuck. You.”_

“ _Tsk. Is that a way to talk to a person?” Miles took a sip from his own glass of wine, made a show of it, took his time. “Alone tonight? Alley?” He drawled the word like nails on a chalkboard._

_Alex sneered_ _viciously_ _. “Say it one more time. I dare you.”_

_Miles’ mouth moved._

_Alex raised a brow._

_Miles grinned. But he remained quiet._

“ _Wise decision.”_

“ _It’s Christmas,” said Miles, indulgently. “I’ll just be the bigger person and not make fun of your insecurities. Your mom said you got dumped again?”_

_He bit back a smirk. Alex did like his feistiness. “Really couldn’t be helped. I don’t see your girlfriend sitting here.”_

_Miles took another sip. Looked at the tablecloth._

_Alex snorted. “Got dumped again, huh?” For a moment, he’d been sure to have seen the hint of a smile on Miles’ face. But it had vanished as fast as it had appeared. If it had appeared at all._

_The waiter arrived, two plates in hand. One he sat in front of Miles, the other he placed in front of Alex. “Oh no! No, no, no, no, no! I’m not eating here! Not at this table!”_

_The waiter hesitated._

_Alex shook his head._

_Miles laughed. “You should say ‘no’ one more time. I don’t think he heard the other six.”_

“ _I said it eight times.”_

_The waiter walked away._

“ _You said ‘no’ six times. And then you added two denials, using ‘not’ and not ‘no’.”_

“ _Nitpicking asshole!” Alex took the fork and dug in._

_Miles scoffed as he did the same. “Says the nitpicking asshole.”_

_Directing his attention from his own plate to Miles’, warily inspecting that mixture of yellow and green, Alex frowned. “What the fuck are you eating?”_

“ _Pasta with Spinach. Want to try?”_

_“Hell no!” He grimaced. “That’s disgusting, Kane!”_

“ _Well, I’m sure your arteries are rejoicing at your choice for a greasy steak.”_

“ _My arteries are doing just fine. But thanks so much for the concern about my health!”_

“ _You’re welcome,” said Miles dryly. “I’d hate for you to drop dead on stage or something. Your fans have to shell out so much money for a single ticket. It’d be a shame to force your demise on them as well.”_

_“I’ll keep that in mind_ _the next_ _time we plan a tour.” He actually would,_ _truth_ _being told. Their concert tickets had become insanely pricey. Damn money-hungry management!_

_For a while, they ate in silence. The waiter returned, wine in hand. “Would you like a refill?”_

“ _Yes,” said Miles, and as the waiter began to pour. “So does he.”_

“ _He,” retorted Alex, wiggling the wine glass thirstily, “can speak for himself. But yes, I’d like some.”_

_The waiter didn’t fill Alex’s glass. “Would you like me to bring a different glass, Sir? This is red wine. Yours is for white wine.”_

_Miles kept his attention on his pasta, filling his fork, as he told the waiter, “just leave the bottle. We’ll be fine. Thank you very much.”_

_The waiter left the bottle, nodded, and walked away._

_Alex took the bottle and filled his glass to the hilt. His voice was stern when he spoke up. “Here’s something that you should know about me. I don’t like it when people speak for me. I hate it, to be honest.”_

_Miles shrugged, nonchalantly. “It may shock you, but I’m well aware of that. You twitch every time I do, which is why I love doing it any chance I get. You’re very easy to read, Turner. Like a kid’s comic. You come with little pictures and speak bubbles and author’s notes.”_

_“That is such a mean thing to say,” Alex informed_ _him._ _“I’m complex and twisted and mysterious!” As he pretended to be much more outraged by the suggestion of being shallow and predictable than he was, he considered the accusations and feared that, at least in Miles’ presence, he truly was that! He did make it strikingly easy for Miles to find and push all his buttons!_

_But what if it was worse than that? What if he actually was highly complicated, difficult to understand, and tough to figure out? What if Miles was simply capable of reading him anyway? What if he was a sophisticated cipher, yet somehow, Miles had managed to decode him?_

_Miles leaned forward, conspiratorially, slyly drawing Alex out of his thoughts. “If I pay for dinner, will you pop a vein?”_

_Alex smirked, tilting towards him._ “ _If I say yes, you’ll do it, right?”_

_So much for being an intricate riddle, thought Alex self-deprecatingly._

_Miles grinned._

_Alex looked away, trying to hide the fact that he, too, was surprisingly amused by it all._

_Times passed and they ate in companionable silence. Alex finished first, placed his fork and knife on the plate, and leaned back. As he swung one leg over the other, he swirled the wine around inside his glass. “Why are you here, alone?”_

“ _I didn’t come here alone. She told me she loved me. I told her I didn’t. I was hungry, so I didn’t see the point in leaving with an empty stomach. You?”_

“ _I was hungry, and my fridge is empty. She dumped me yesterday. I guess it happened for the same reason.”_

_Next a strikingly long list of things that he and Miles had in common, Alex had discovered a while ago that he carried the same indifference towards his romantic partners that he himself held. It made it damn near impossible to make fun of him for it._

“ _Spoke to Jamie.” Miles looked up, met his eyes. “You guys are all set to release the album, huh?”_

“ _Yep. Have you heard it yet?” He was dying to hear his feedback, although he'd never admit it._

“ _No.” Miles chuckled as he placed his cutlery away, nudging the plate further up the table. “Jamie offered to send it to me, but I made a joke about the album ending up online by accident and he got all nervous and freaky.”_

_Alex snickered. “Too bad, Kane. Now you have to wait for the official release. It’s weeks away.” Damn! Now he had to wait for his review as well._

“ _I have no intention of buying it,” Miles told him. “That would lead to me directly financing your debauched way of life and I couldn’t forgive myself for that. I’ll download a pirated version at some point.”_

_Or, Alex could just give him the album. “Tell you what. I'll send it to you. You’ll want to know what music the world is talking about.”_

“ _Oh, thank God, there it is!” He wiped invisible sweat from his forehead as he blew out a breath. “I worried about your ego. It's been hiding all night!”_

_Alex flashed a cocky look. “It napped for a moment.”_

“ _Got tired from being inflated all day, huh?”_

“ _Yeah! It’s a tough job being that big and impressive. Takes a lot!”_

“ _I bet. All that self-aggrandizing and hero-worshipping in front of your mirror!” Miles waved for the waiter, let him know he wanted the check. “You must be so stressed out.”_

“ _Oh, don't you worry. I'm good. I excel at it.” Alex reached for his wallet._

_Miles reached for his. “You really do.”_

_Their eyes met. Alex sharpened his focus. “Feels a bit like drawing pistols in the desert, doesn’t it?”_

_The waiter arrived. “Would you like to pay separately?”_

“ _Yes,” said Alex._

“ _No,” said Miles. He drew first, handed over his credit card and flashed Alex a challenging look. “You’re twitching again.”_

“ _Know what?” Alex shrugged a shoulder benevolently. “This is probably the first and last dinner you and I will ever share. I’ll just consider it my Christmas present from you.”_

“ _Does that mean I can toss the actual one?”_

“ _What’s the actual one? Moldy chocolate?”_

“ _Stinky cheese.”_

_Alex got up, grabbed his phone. “Send it by mail. I’ll be expecting it.” He tipped his head with a grin. “See you around. Seems inevitable, after all.”_

“ _True.” Miles got up as well. “See you around.”_

**Present Day**

Alex laid on his side, head resting on his bent arm, as he watched Miles snoring softly into the pillow next to him. He’d drifted off a few minutes ago, mumbling a quick warning that he was on the verge of passing out, and then he’d promptly fallen asleep. His chest rose and fell in a slow and steady rhythm. His face carried a calmness that amazed Alex and his butt cheeks peeked out ever so teasingly from below the sheets. 

Biting his lower lip, he shifted. Careful and deliberate, trying not to wake him up. He curled his arm around Miles’ back and placed his head close enough for their foreheads to touch. He couldn’t stop doing that. Feeling him, initiating contact with him, touching him! It was so damn nice being close to him! Addictive, even. Comforting and reassuring and it gave him a sense of belonging. He was no longer alone in this world. There was somebody in his life who genuinely wanted to be there. After years of drought, of being lonely and restless, being able to just slip into somebody arms and linger there was a feeling that went beyond his abilities of description. And he was fucking done running away from that. Pulling the sheet up, he gave him a sweet kiss and closed his eyes as well. 

.

.

**Spoiler Chapter 22**

#

"Spend the day with me.” 

He turned shy. “Like a date?” 

Miles hesitated. Alex had told him to screw the rules. With a deep breath, he decided to do just that. “Well…yes?” 

Alex inhaled sharply. “It's been a damn long time since I had a real one. What if I forgot how to do it?” 

“I mean…” Miles scooted closer, bumping their noses together. “I haven't had a real one in just as long, probably. We can figure it out together? Right?” 

#

“There's nothing innocent about you,” hushed Miles, stopping to lay a quick, yet hungry kiss on his lips. “Go for red.” 

“The color of sin,” Alex pointed out, licking deeply into Miles' mouth. 

Miles stilled his hands as they were about to slid into his jacket. “We're standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk.” 

“Would you prefer I call a cab?” 

Miles leaned in, bit Alex's lip playfully. “Dirty!” 

Alex grabbed his hand. “We should find that store soon. All that talk about sex is making me restless!” 

#

Staring at the thong in his hand, Miles raised a brow. Hesitating. 

Alex cupped his cheek tenderly, but with a glint in his eyes. “Dress up, baby. Or me and my sexy underwear will make a very hasty exit.” 

#


	22. Meet Amor And Psyche

22

Miles clung to his sleep as though it was the last piece of strawberry cheesecake after a week of starvation. He squeezed his eyes shut, refused to acknowledge that persistent poking sensation that he felt in his stomach and he avoided powering up his brain until the very last moment. 

But the poking got harder. 

And his patience had yet to rise. 

Rolling to his side, finding himself colliding with a solid, large object, Miles grunted, defiantly curled up against it, tried to squeeze whatever it was into submission and sighed at last, for good measure.

But it was all in vain. 

The poking started anew! 

Fucking hell?

And it was bloody annoyingly insistent! 

He opened one eye, immediately encountered the sharp, unyielding light of day and roughly pulled a sheet over his head. “Argh!” 

“Miles, come on!” 

Miles moved the sheet away, opened a second eye and saw Alex lying next to him. 

Fuck. 

He dimly recalled last night’s events. He must have fallen asleep with him still there. Great! His eyes drifted close as he snuggled back into the warm, welcoming pillow. “'Tis alright. Just leave. Lemme sleep.” 

“Two things! One: I can't leave, even if I wanted to, because you're sleeping on my arm and you're killing the blood flow. Which is a bad thing, 'cause I play guitar for a living and I need the arm for that! And two: It's fucking ten a.m., Miles. There's no point in leaving now, is there?” 

It was too fucking early and he was using way too many words! Miles rolled on his back. Alex wiggled his arm free from underneath him. He slowly fired up his head and replayed Alex's rant word by word, trying to decipher it bit by bit. Arm. Blood flow. Sleeping. 

Okay. He understood the issue, now. But Alex had his arm back. Problem solved. 

Ten a.m. in the morning. Sleeping. Leaving. That brought a frown to his face and, once again, his lids moved up. The damn sun was still up and shining bright! 

Alex lay on his side, next to him, oozing smugness like a leaking oil tank. “Morning, sunshine.” 

Miles grumbled. “Mornin'.” With a groan, he pulled his hand up and wiped the last hopes of sleep from his tired eyes. “You're fucking nuts, you know that?” 

Eyes wide, Alex snorted. “Say what now?” 

“Ten a.m., Alex? Why the fuck didn't you wake me up earlier? I can't believe you spent the entire night awake. I mean, I get it, okay?” He really didn't get it anymore, but whatever. “You don't want to sleep next to me. Fine. But you don't have to stay here! I told you, just let me know, and you can leave. For fuck's sake, leave without waking me if you need to! How do think it makes me feel to know you didn't get an ounce of sleep, just 'cause I asked you not to sneak away, huh?” 

“Uh—” 

Miles turned away from him, swung his legs out of bed and sat up. “Makes me feel fucking great,” he snarled. “Really fucking great!” 

A hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling hard. He fell back onto the mattress, startled. Alex's head hovered over his face. “Don't you fucking dare leave this bed right now!” 

Miles rolled his eyes hard. “Alex, get away from me. I'm not in the mood for games right now! And I don't want to fuck, either!” Their whole arrangement began to annoy the shit out of him. It was fucking ridiculous that he'd stayed the night without getting any rest. And it was laughable, too! They'd done things way worse than sleeping together. He had a hunch that cuddling, kissing, holding hands, even dancing in fucking elevators did a lot more towards falling in love than sleeping ever could. And it was too late! For him, anyway! He'd long ago lost his heart to him. He didn't even want it back. He just wanted to find a solution that left it somewhat repairable and not beyond broken! 

He sat up again. “I'm taking a shower. And then we need to talk!” 

Once again, Alex's grip was firm. “I said, don't leave this bed!” He crawled on top of him and pinned Miles' struggling arms above his head as he straddled his squirming body. “You want to talk? Let's talk. Now! You can shower when we’re done!” 

“What the fuck?” Miles wiggled and struggled and he was surprised, not for the first time, how strong Alex was! Sure, he could break free, if he put some muscle into it, but he didn't want to fight him, either! 

“Stop moving,” snapped Alex. “You're making me hard and that's not helping right now!” 

A snort from Miles. 

Alex glared at him. 

“Fine,” Miles bit out, giving up. “I'll listen. Say what you want to say!” 

“You know, in my head, this was a lot more romantic!” Alex leaned up a bit, the hint of a mocking pout on his lips. 

Miles frowned. “What was?” 

“Telling you I stayed the night.” 

“I know you stayed the bloody night!” 

“Are you doing this on purpose or are you really not getting it?” 

“Getting what?” He was getting offended, that was for sure!

“I. Stayed. The. Night.” 

Miles growled resentfully. “I. Know.” 

“I fucking slept here!” 

“I. Know!” No. Wait. Miles blinked. “What?” 

“For fuck’s sake!” Alex shook his head. “That didn't take long at all!” 

“This is really not the time for sarcasm,” Miles let him know. “What do you mean you slept here? Like, in this bed?” 

Alex tilted his head. “I'm beginning to think I actually did fuck your brains out last night!” 

“Not funny!” 

Alex shrugged. “It is a little bit!” He sat up, no longer keeping his arms restrained. Instead, he crossed his own and glowered at him. “As I said, I imagined this being a lot more romantic. Also, I'm slightly insulted you didn't ask me to stay last night. You've asked me to stay almost every night and the one time I plan on saying yes, you don't ask. Maybe you're the problem? Maybe you no longer want me to stay the night? Maybe that's the re—” 

As if! Miles grabbed his ass, rolled them over, and kissed him so hard that he was sure their lips would bruise. He felt Alex's feet on the back of his thighs as he arched up against him, bringing their semi-hard erections inseparably close together. 

Cupping his cheek with one hand, holding his ass with the other, Miles allowed just the barest amount of distance to slip between his and Alex's lips and stared into his eyes, a little shell-shocked. “You really stayed the night?” 

Alex nodded, a hazy look on his face. “I really, honestly, stayed the night!” 

“Why?” Gone was all anger, all frustration, all annoyance. Left were raw emotions. Miles' voice became low and quiet. “I mean…what does that mean?” 

Reaching out, curling both arms around him, Alex smiled cockily. “It means, I'm making an executive decision in this relationship. Screw the bloody rules. Let's do away with the bloody rules.” He raised his head, kissed him. 

Miles fell apart in his arms, against his mouth. His grip on him got stronger with each brush of their tongues. “When I said I don't want to fuck right now–” 

“You were lying?” Alex chuckled as he pushed himself against Miles' eager cock. “I was kinda hoping you were.” 

“I was so lying,” rasped Miles. His lips kissed and nipped and teased Alex's neck and he grinned wickedly when he drew a keen moan from his lover's throat. He felt spurred on, licked the spot he'd sank his teeth into a moment ago, then bit down again, marking him. 

Alex's fingers drove through Miles' hair and he grabbed it roughly, pulling on it. “I'm not wearing a bandana again! You leave a mark, I'll show it off!” 

Miles had begged him to wear a bandana around his neck whenever his lust had gotten away with him and he'd left marks on his neck. Alex had given in, petulantly, but he'd relented nonetheless. But he was right. Enough of that! “Do it,” husked Miles between kisses and gropes. “Let them know you're mine.” 

“Yours,” repeated Alex, on the verge of breathlessness. “Yours!” Their movements spiraled out of control. “Do it, fucking do it! Fuck me already!” 

And Miles did. He pushed in, slowly, carefully, until Alex adjusted. He waited for him, for that telltale roll of his hips that let him know he was good to go. And when it came, Miles pulled out, almost all the way, only to shove back in, with more vigor. Alex whimpered. 

“Fuck, yes…” 

“Got any plans today?” Gazing at him from his spot against the bed's headboard, Alex gently caressed Miles' head. “Wanna go for lunch? Order in? Have a sex marathon?” His brows wiggled suggestively. 

Resting lazily with his head on Alex's stomach, Miles laughed. “Actually, I do have plans.” 

“Oh?” Alex raised a brow. 

“A trip to the museum.” 

The second brow joined in; both turned quizzical. “The museum?” 

Miles bit his lower lip sheepishly. “It's this weird habit that I have, whenever I'm here. Few years ago, I was stuck on a song. Couldn't finish it for months. Then some people dragged me along to see this exhibition. Anyway, there was a painting. And I looked at it. And I got so inspired that I finished the song that very night. So, anytime I'm here, I'll go take a look.” 

Alex slipped deeper into the bed, behind Miles, and curled up against his back. “What painting?” 

“Munch's Amor and Psyche. Weird one, that.” 

“Amor?” Alex grinned and Miles felt it against the back of his shoulder as he pressed his lips there. “That's the fat little baby angel with the arrows, right?” 

More laughter from Miles. “It is not! That's not at all what it looks like! It's two people, gazing at each other. The longer you look at it, the more it draws you in.” Miles spun around, facing him. “Go with me!” 

“To a museum?” 

He shrugged. “What else you got planned for today?” 

“A sex marathon?” 

Miles captured Alex's lips in a languid kiss. “Come with me.” 

“That's more like it!” 

Leaning back, smirking, Miles hit his shoulder playfully. “To the museum, Alex! Spend the day with me.” 

He turned shy. “Like a date?” 

Miles hesitated. Alex had told him to screw the rules. With a deep breath, he decided to do just that. “Well…yes?” 

Alex inhaled sharply. “It's been a damn long time since I had a real one. What if I forgot how to do it?” 

“I mean…” Miles scooted closer, bumping their noses together. “I haven't had a real one in just as long, probably. We can figure it out together? Right?” 

“You're serious about the museum, aren't you?” 

He grinned. “I am.” 

Alex sighed. “Fine.” 

Miles beamed at him. “Let's go!” 

“Now?” As Miles slipped out of his arms, Alex mumbled, “There goes my lazy morning in bed…” 

\- 

It really wasn't a fat little baby angel with arrows. Miles stood a few feet away from the painting, looking at it. As always – he'd seen the painting a handful of times by now – the two blurry figures gazed deeply into each other's eyes and he found himself lost in thought, wondering what might be in their heads at this moment. What fears did they have, what hopes? It never looked the same whenever he encountered the piece of art. Each time, he came up with different scenarios in which this scene, this capture of a moment, might have taken place. 

He felt Alex's arm as it curled around his neck from behind. “It's sad, is it not? Looks depressing.” 

“Intense,” mused Miles. “As though they are on the verge of confessing something of great importance.” 

“But they don't use words,” noted Alex. “They're just standing there. In the rain, from the looks of it. Or, maybe, not rain. Shadows, rather. Maybe it symbolizes the weight of what's not yet spoken out. Given their story, I mean, it took an eternity for them to get their happy ending! Even divine interference!” 

Miles met his eyes, grinning. “I knew it! You've seen it before, haven't you?” 

“I swear I haven't! But I've read the story,” he admitted, a little smirk on his lips. “I told you, I read a lot. Weird one, though.” 

Miles turned his focus back on the painting as Alex curled his other arm around his stomach, holding his tight. His lips kept brushing his earlobe as he told him about everything he found odd and remarkable. In between, Alex placed little kisses to his jaw. Miles loved every last moment of it. 

“Think about it!” Alex's words came out in quiet tones. “She's never seen him before. They become a pair because – basically, because of an accident. They spend all their nights together. But they don't trust each other. He's scared of her reaction to his appearance and she's too easily worried by her meddling sisters.” 

Miles covered Alex's hand with his, which, in return, made Alex instantly entwine their fingers. “Not the most romantic tale, I admit. But it's an interesting one.” He’d read it, too.

“I'll admit the painting is interesting. But it's doing more for the story than the characters are. If you ask me, this Amor guy really needs some therapy. He's got more baggage than is good for him!” 

“So does she! She tries to do right…then again, her sisters have valid points.” 

“They are putting nonsense in her head! If she really loved him, she wouldn't care for anything else.” 

“She does love him. She's going to end of the world, literally, to save him. She's willing to sacrifice herself.” 

“See, that's the part I don't get about the great romantic tales of all time. How is it romantic to sacrifice yourself or your own happiness for the sake of the other person? Shouldn't you want shared happiness? I mean, I'm far from being an expert on love. Kind of the opposite,” he admitted laughingly. “But tell me, what's the point of sacrifice? Why would you willingly suffer, to save the other one?” 

Turning around in Alex's embrace, Miles frowned at him. “Isn't that what you do when you love somebody? Shouldn't you want the other one to be happy?” 

“Yes. But if you have two people in love, how can one end up happy after the other one jumped the cliff, so to say? Let's say you and I are epically in love.” 

Miles snorted at that. 

Alex scoffed. “Feeling the love right there, ey?” 

“Sorry, just…” He chuckled. “The way you said 'epically in love' sounded like you were talking about the plague!” 

“Just hear me out, will you?” 

“Fine! Go on. Tell me about our epic love.” 

“Mock me, I don't care. Anyway, we're epically in love. Stop laughing! And you sacrifice yourself for my sake. What good would that do me? I'd end up miserable, 'cause I no longer have you!” 

“I see your point,” conceded Miles, still amused by the entire conversation. “But when you feel that strongly about somebody, you can't help yourself. You don't see it that way.” 

“That's the reason love is universally despised!” 

“Says the guy who has written some of the greatest love songs of our time!” Miles leaned in for a kiss, cupped Alex's cheeks, and kept a hold on his lips until he was momentarily satisfied. Which, interestingly, hardly lasted a moment. 

Alex closed the gap again. “More.” 

They kissed again. Got lost in it. 

Next to them, a woman cleared her throat. “Excuse me, gentlemen? If I may?” 

Detaching just enough to glance at her, Miles and Alex turned their heads. 

The woman, tall, brunette, with large horn glasses, pointed towards the painting and then at the very limited distance between them and its spot on the wall. “If you could take just a few steps back, and leave some safety space between you and this timeless, priceless piece of art, that would be splendid!” 

Miles let go of Alex's body, grabbed his hand instead, and both of them took a few strides away from the wall. 

The woman smiled appreciatively. “Thank you so much. Do go on, now.” 

“Hear that?” Alex immediately grabbed Miles' head and pulled it in for a kiss. He grinned as he did so. “We're to go on.” 

“In that case,” murmured Miles against Alex's sweet lips, “let's do go on!” Lips connected again. 

It felt beyond amazing to just kiss him and not give a damn. They had been holding hands, hugging, kissing and being playful with each other ever since stepping out of the hotel. They'd walked past people who may or may not have recognized them. They'd encountered weird looks, some guy with a rainbow shirt who'd given them a thumbs up and two old ladies who'd giggled when Alex had been too amused to resist pinching Miles' ass. 

He fucking loved it. He loved having Alex like that. 

“Oh my God, you're him! That guy from that band, right?” 

Grumbling, Alex unlatched from Miles' lips and Miles fought a smile when his hand instantly reached for his own again. 

They turned to look at the teenage girl a few feet away. “What band?” asked Alex. 

“That rock band?” She rolled her eyes, a surprisingly spunky move that Miles actually found impressive. “I saw a poster in town. You're from London. What's your name again?” 

“Bono,” said Alex. 

Miles jerked his head around, biting his tongue from laughing. Alex squeezed his hand hard. 

“Pff, as if. I know Bono! Guy's a legend. No, you're the other guy!” 

Alex raised a brow. “What's it that you want from me, anyway?” 

“A picture.” 

“You don't even know my name.” 

“You're famous, aren't you?” 

“As I said, you don't know my name. So, I'd argue I'm not that famous.” 

“No picture then?” 

The tall brunette with the horn glasses appeared from the sidelines. “No pictures here. Our paintings don't like the harsh light of cellphone flashes. And also, there’s the pesky issue of copyright and such.” 

“Tsk, hear that? Too bad. There goes your picture with me.” 

“That sucks! But seriously,” the plucky teenager pressed on. “At least tell me your name. That way I can tell my friends I saw a real rock star!” 

“Lennon. John Lennon. My band's called The Beatles.” 

“Thank you! See, that didn't hurt at all, did it?” The girl grinned victoriously as she returned to her group of friends. 

Miles leaned into Alex's shoulder, chuckling from the hilarity of it. “That was mean! They're going to make fun of her for that!” 

“I bloody hope so!” He kissed Miles' cheek. “Girl didn't even know John! What's happening to today's youth?” 

“Shit!” Miles spotted the group of teenagers, the feisty one included, making their collective way towards them. 

“Idiot,” said one of the boys. “That's Alex Turner and Miles Kane! The Beatles are all dead!” 

Alex pulled Miles along. “We got made! By ignorants! Let's run!” 

“Hurry!” 

\- 

Miles scrolled through the small thread of Tweets on his phone, grinning to himself. Girl had guts. He had to give her that. Barely an hour had passed since they'd left the museum and already, she'd posted about her stellar encounter with Alex. 

“What's so funny?” Alex sat across from him outside the restaurant, taking a drag from his cigarette. 

“She calls you, I quote, 'a wannabe-legend who is so full of himself that he pretends to be the mighty John Lennon!'” 

“Who is calling me that?” 

“Most likely the girl from the museum. I looked at the hashtag for Alex Turner and there it was. Posted a few minutes ago. I mean unless you regularly introduce yourself as Lennon.” 

“Oh, now she knows Lennon, huh?” Alex rolled his eyes. “Probably looked him up on that Google.” 

Lowering his head into his hand, Miles laughed harder. “Seriously, I don't know what's worse. That she had to look up Lennon or that you call it that Google.” 

Alex tossed a dirty look at him. “Aren't we feeling cocky today. May I remind you, it wasn't too long ago that I overheard you asking Matt if he could drive you to pick up some new amp you got! How's that driving license coming along, ey?” 

Miles gaped. “Mean, Alex!” He put his phone away and crossed his arms defiantly. “I'm doing the public a favor by not driving!” 

“No shit!” 

“Besides, I got you now. You love to drive. Might as well take advantage of that.” 

“Think I'm at your service, do you?” 

Plucking the cigarette from his fingers, Miles smiled, cheekily. “I do.” He took a drag, grinned, handed it back. 

“I should ask for a payment, then.” 

“What have you got in mind?” 

Brushing the tip of his nose against Miles', Alex smirked. “Blow jobs.” His tongue slipped out, teased Miles' upper lip. “Hand jobs.” A chaste kiss. “Plenty of fucking.” 

“Now that we've decided to toss the rules out…” Miles put the tip of his finger underneath Alex's chin, to kiss him deeply. “Mmh. Daytime sex is back on the menu, right?” 

“For breakfast, for lunch and for dinner,” assured Alex beamingly. “Speaking of dinner, I got a surprise for you. You are available, later, are you?” 

“At your complete disposal.” 

“Perfect.” 

“But we have to do some shopping first.” Pulling out some cash, he put it underneath his empty glass of water, and got up, holding out his hand for Miles. “Let's go.” 

“Where to, Master?” 

Alex raised one brow, a wickedly intrigued look on his face. His arm roped around Miles' waist, bringing him closer, as he leaned into his neck. “Agent Provocateur. I recall promising you the fulfillment of a certain fantasy of yours.” 

A shiver raced up Miles' spine. “You're serious about that?” They'd been in the midst of a very public, very erotic wank when that fantasy had slipped from his lips. He'd not believed that Alex would actually go that far and do it. Then again, it was Alex. Miles kissed his cheek. “You don't have to, you know?” 

“Oh, I want to!” His whispered words hit his ears like the fine, rich sounds of a unique, vintage guitar, tuned to perfection. “I want to see the expression on your face when you see me wearing pink.” He wiggled his brows. “Unless you prefer red. Or blue. Maybe a sleek black? Or white? The color of innocence?” 

“There's nothing innocent about you,” hushed Miles, stopping to lay a quick, yet hungry kiss on his lips. “Go for red.” 

“The color of sin,” Alex pointed out, licking deeply into Miles' mouth. 

Miles stilled his hands as they were about to slide into his jacket. “We're standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk.” 

“Would you prefer I call a cab?” 

Miles leaned in, bit Alex's lip playfully. “Dirty!” 

Alex grabbed his hand. “We should find that store soon. All that talk about sex is making me restless!” 

They did find it. Miles leaned with his back against the wall outside of it, tapping his foot impatiently to the concrete ground, scoffing. 

Alex had made him wait outside! Unbelievable! 

“Wanna surprise you,” he'd said. 

Well, good for him! 

Peeking through the large windows, unable to spot him, Miles exhaled heavily. He let his eyes wander, roam from one store to another, from window displays to people, to more stores and displays, until– 

“Ooh!” He pushed away from the wall, hurried across the street and stared wide-eyed at a magnificently cut leather jacket. Sleek and fine, black and highlighted with studs. 

“Here you are!” 

“Look at that, baby!” 

“Go and get it!” 

“I have one almost exactly like that! I have too many as it is.” His jackets were already traveling in Alex's suitcase since his one was stuffed to the hilt with all of his other stuff. A thought occurred to him. “You should get it!” 

“So you can wear it,” laughed Alex. “Admit it!” 

“That's not…okay, maybe!” 

“If I get it, then I'm keeping it for myself! And I am tempted to get it, since it looks really cool! But you saw it first, so decide. Do you want it or not?” 

Miles bit his lip in deliberation. His eyes went small. He took a long, hard look at it. Would he like to wear it himself? Absolutely. But would he like to see Alex wearing it? Even more so! Maybe Alex would wear it with nothing else underneath. In bed… 

Alex sent him an odd look. “Your eyes are doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

“You’re having naughty thoughts, aren’t you?”

Miles quickly snatched a kiss from his lips. “Go buy that jacket!”

Grinning, Alex grabbed his hand. 

“Hey, while you try it on, want me to hold that little bag for you?” 

Moving it out of his grasp, Alex stuck his tongue out. “Hands off! You'll find out soon enough what's in there!” 

Miles pushed out his lower lip as he tugged on Alex's hand, bringing him closer. “Just a little glance.” 

“No!” He pecked his pouty lips. “Patience, babe! I promise you won't regret it! Besides, there's more than one item in there.” This time, the kiss got deeper. “Something else entirely as well.” 

Miles quickly buried himself in Alex's arms, finding them warm and welcoming and full of promises. “Tell me,” he breathed into his ear, knowing it turned him on when he did that. He licked that little sensitive spot below his lobe. Kissed it. “Just a little hint?” 

Moaning into Miles' neck, Alex tightened his hold on him, kept both arms firmly around his waist. “Babe…'tis mean. Lemme surprise you.” 

“Fine,” relented Miles, still kissing along the curve of his neck. 

Sinking his teeth into Miles' shoulder, biting teasingly, Alex growled. 

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” An employee appeared next to them.

Alex moved to the side but kept his arm around Miles' shoulder and Miles kept his smile on his face. “That jacket…” 

“Would you like to try it on?” 

“Absolutely.” 

As she went off to get one for him, Alex slipped his fingers between Miles’. “Sneak into the changing room with me? Fool around a little?” 

Miles lowered his eyes as they made their way to the changing room, placed his free hand on Alex’s stomach and brought their bodies together. “Would you like me to blow you right now?” 

Alex’s eyes turned black.

“That’s what I thought.” He slipped into the changing room just in time before the salesperson reappeared. 

“Actually,” he heard Alex speak. “I’d like to try on those jeans, those two shirts, and the trousers too.” He gave her his size. 

“Yes, sir. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Alex slipped into the little room. “On your knees. Now.”

Miles licked his lips. “Yes, Master…”

\- 

Miles sat in the hotel bar, coffee in hand, munching on a biscuit. Alex was upstairs, on the phone with his mother. 

“Mind if I sit?” 

Turning to his side, finding Jamie standing there, waiting, Miles blinked. “Take the damn seat! When have you ever asked?” 

“I know,” he said. “Only…seems that, now, everything is different. After last night…” 

“How are you, Jamie?” Miles had wanted to reach out to him after last night. But he’d known that Katie was there. And he didn’t want to get into the band’s business. That was a line he’d never crossed before and he’d no intentions of doing it now. It did, however, make it hard to be a friend to him and the others. “How’s the rest of the band?” 

Ordering a coffee as well, Jamie shrugged. “Lost, I’d say? Confused. Feels like it happened out of nowhere. And at the same time, it feels like we should have all seen in coming. Did you see it coming?” He glanced at him. 

Miles looked drearily into his almost empty coffee mug. “Not like this,” he admitted. But he’d witnessed Alex struggling with the pressure of writing new music. He was aware of his wish to take a bit of a breather. “I thought you guys might take a break or something like that. Take it easy for a while.” 

For a moment, Jamie remained quiet. “You, too, then. Katie called me a dick. Made me sleep on the couch. Told me I’d sold my best friend for an album that would never see the light of day. And she was right! Without Alex, there’s no Arctic Monkeys. No album. No future.” He sighed as took a few sips. “Marianne thinks we should give Alex some time and that he’ll return soon. She’s convinced he’ll be back within a week or two.” 

Never. That, Miles knew. “He won’t return as long as she’s there. I can tell you that. I don’t know what she did to him. But whenever she’s around, he’s shutting down. He’s locking himself up.” 

“Is he okay,” asked Jamie. “He was with you, last night, right? I knocked on his door and he wasn’t there.” 

They knew, then. 

He’d guessed it. 

Miles met Jamie’s eyes and found a lost look on his friend’s face. Swallowing the remains of his coffee, he put the cup away and shrugged helplessly. “He and I…” 

“You’ve been arguing with each other from the moment you met!” 

“I know!” He let out a deep breath. “I wish I could explain it to you. Or even to myself! I can’t tell you how or when or why it happened. Only that it happened gradually. I didn’t wake up last summer and decided to be gay now!” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, Jamie’s eyes went wide. “Is that what you are now?” 

“I don’t know. I think so.” He’d never really put much thought into it. And he didn’t care, either. He’d never lived his life like that. His heart and his impulses guided his actions and, somehow, they’d led him into Alex’s arms. 

“No more women? Never?” 

A soft chuckle broke the silence. “I can’t say, Jamie. Right now, it’s just Alex. He’s the one I want.” And, for the moment, he couldn’t even imagine a time in which he’d ever not want him. 

“Every night?” 

“What?” 

Jamie actually blushed. He rubbed his eyes with one hand. “No, that’s not…I mean…you’re spending a lot of time together!” 

Miles was well aware of that. And, in the beginning, a part of him had found it odd. But now? It felt natural, now. “Maybe it’s because it’s a new thing or whatever. Or, maybe, it’s because it’s not a new thing. Think about it, Jamie. We’ve always been drawn to each other. From the moment we met.” 

Jamie returned his attention to his coffee as Miles turned around, to take a look across the bar. It was modern and sleek and grey and lacked all personality. He’d never been a fan of hotel bars. It was a rare one that could lure him into returning just for the atmosphere. He preferred the old hotels. The ones with history and cracks. The ones that had pictures on the walls. Actual pictures. None of those artsy modern black and white prints that popped up everywhere. 

“How long have you known?” asked Miles, after a while. 

“That you two are…” Jamie snorted. “London. That day at the arena.” He placed his fingertip to the mug, spun it around, got lost in it for a moment. Then the clinkering sounds stopped, and he turned around on his stool as well, crossing his arms. “I’m fucking pissed off, by the way! First of all, Alex is a fucking idiot if he thinks he can walk out of your dressing room, basically shirtless, a damn hickey on his neck, and pretend it’s bloody nothing! And second of all, what the fuck were you thinking lying to me for weeks? We’re friends!” 

“I know.” And Miles felt awful for it. 

“Did you think I’d judge you or some shit like that?” 

“No!” He turned towards him. “It was new and…I didn’t know how to explain it. I didn’t have the words for it. I’d broken up with my girlfriend just weeks before and – I mean, becoming friends with Alex was crazy enough. And suddenly there was all this attraction and…honestly, for a little bit, I liked that it was just him and me. It was like we had our own little corner of the world that we could hide in.” A scoff escaped him. “That, and, well – when you saw Alex walk out of my dressing room, you all but saw the end of the beginning. We got into a huge fight and—” 

“Yes, I know. Nick mentioned something like that. Told us you probably got together in Rome.” 

“Nick knows?!” He’d had his suspicions, but having them confirmed still stunned him. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jamie shook his head disbelievingly. “They all know! Come on, Miles! How dumb do you think we are, huh? You’ve been fucking for weeks. Think we didn’t notice? You and Al turn into drooling, horny idiots each time the other one enters the room! You kissed in the club in Moscow! You were holding hands behind your backs all the time. Alex fucking danced in an elevator with you! Don’t give me that shit about the bet! I could have strangled him in that moment! Matt saw you two having dinner with your mother. Nick couldn’t stop laughing when he saw the two of you stumbling into that cab while making out like gross teenagers. For crying out loud, Katie saw you holding hands while taking a bloody stroll through a supermarket!” 

Well… 

So much for secrecy. 

He felt a little embarrassed, to be perfectly honest. He’d considered the two of them to be very sneaky. Masters of secrecy, actually. “You’ve known all along, then.” 

“Not for certain, but yes.” 

“Great.” 

“Should I talk to Al?” Jamie plucked a piece of lint from his pants. “You think he’d be willing to listen to me?” 

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.” 

“You don’t really believe that this is the end, right?” 

Miles patted Jamie’s back comfortingly. “You were friends before you became a band. Maybe you need to remember why you were friends?” 

“That’s not a no,” pointed Jamie out. Worried. 

“No,” agreed Miles. 

\- 

Miles opened the door to his hotel room, flicked the lights on and startled at the sound of Alex’s booming voice echoing from the bedroom. 

“Turn the fucking lights off! I prepared something.” 

Jesus Christ! He rolled his eyes, scoffed, and killed the lights immediately. Tossing his keycard onto the small table by the door, he stripped out of his jacket, kicked off his shoes and made his way into the bedroom. 

His first reaction was to blink. It was dimly lit by a dozen candles that were placed on the dresser, the nightstand and by the window. Miles cringed. “What the hell? Are you trying to burn the bloody building down?” 

Sprawled out on his bed, wearing a pink terry robe which was tied at the middle with a big bow, was Alex. And he greeted him with a heavy, theatrical sigh. “Oh, we’re off to a great start!” 

“What do you mean?” Miles got rid of his socks, absentmindedly kicking them away, and flinched when he almost hit a candle. “Shit!” 

“You have no sense of romance, darlin’.” Alex propped his chin on his hand, rolled on his stomach and batted his eyelashes at him. Then he added a wink for good measure. 

Miles laughed. “I’m not into burn marks,” he let him know as he made his way across the room, blowing out each lit wick. Before he killed the last one, he lit the lamp on the nightstand. “There. Much better.” Then he crawled onto the bed. 

Alex rolled onto his back, arching his back and bending one leg. Posing, clearly. His lips formed a wicked smile as he licked them, bundling all of Miles’ attention into one searing gaze. “You know, I’ve never met a woman who saw candles and immediately considered it a fire hazard. Usually, it’s considered charming. Picturesque. Rêveur,” he breathed, in his finest French. 

Miles could tell he was bloody enjoying himself and it brought a grin to his face. Tipping his index finger underneath Alex’s chin, Miles leaned in, stopping a hair’s breadth away from very, very sinful mouth. “How many women have you welcomed like this? Candles and all?” 

Quickly closing the distance, Alex placed a fiery kiss on Miles’ lips. “None. Swear!” 

“Liar.” 

“Not lying!” He smiled roguishly. “It’s the reason I’ve never met a woman who complained about it.” He stuck out his tongue cheekily. His hands went to Miles’ shirt and he tugged on it, clearly wanting it gone. “Get naked.” 

Reaching for the bow on Alex’s robe, Miles began tugging as well. “You go first!” His eyes went to the lapels and he watched, intrigued, as they drifted apart. “Did you go for red?” 

“Find out.” 

“I don’t know anybody who can look so innocent and be so sinful at the same time.” Miles’ eyes were fixed on his body. The robe’s sides fell apart. There he was, wearing the fucking sexiest piece of red lace that Miles had ever seen. It was perfect. Intricate, rich in color, playful, intersected with mesh. Ruffled at the edges. “You like?” asked Alex, rasping sexily. 

Miles began to shiver and shudder, trying to fight it, but losing the battle in an instant. Collapsing on top of Alex, he was shaking with laughter. Loud, roaring, relentless laughter. 

“Yep.” Alex pulled his arms free and crossed them underneath his head, getting comfortable. “That’s the reaction I was hoping for.” 

“So, so sorry,” wheezed Miles. “Shit, baby, really!” 

Blowing out a breath, Alex nodded slowly. “Oh, I can tell!” 

He felt awful. He really did! He struggled for air as his laughing fit reached its height. Miles tried and failed to place a kiss to his chest. “Baby! ‘tis the fucking craziest thing I’ve ever seen! I’m sorry! I really am! But you look fucking ridiculous!” More laughter. 

“Thank God I got a healthy ego on me.” A smirk danced across Alex’s features. “Otherwise, this might have ruined the mood!” 

“Oh, no! I know you’re doing this for me. I’m the one who asked you to do it!” Slowly, very slowly, the laughter subsided. Miles kissed him. “I thought this would be sexy and dirty and…” He chuckled as slid down his body, bringing his face closer to Alex’s cock, which was unoffended and straining proudly against the fine red mesh. Miles snorted. “The mesh is stretching right where your cock is and…” He was back to laughing. 

“Here’s the thing.” Alex’s smirk had reached its full capacity as he reached beneath the pillow and pulled free a bundle of red fabric. “I had an idea that things could go this way.” He pressed the fabric into Miles’ stunned hand. “So I got you a matching one.” 

Staring at the thong in his hand, Miles raised a brow. Hesitating. 

Alex cupped his cheek tenderly, but with a glint in his eyes. “Dress up, baby. Or I and my sexy underwear will make a very hasty exit.” 

Miles was no longer laughing. “Fine,” he huffed, getting up, maneuvering off the bed. 

Alex quickly grabbed his arm, leaning up. “Oh no, I want to watch. Lest you accidentally flush it down the toilet or drop it out of a window.” 

Efficient hands made quick work of his jeans and underwear. Miles chuckled as he watched Alex, who stretched and purred on the mattress, taking in the sight. “You’re so enjoying this!” 

“You bet your sexy ass that I am!” 

As he flung his briefs away and struggled to get into the flimsy bit of silk, he glanced at him sideways. “Be honest. Did you laugh at your reflection in the mirror when you put it on?” 

“For ten minutes,” admitted Alex dryly. He grabbed Miles’ head and kissed him hard. “Hurry up! I want to fuck you with that thing on!” 

“Only if you keep on yours!” 

.

.

**Spoiler Chapter 23:**

#

“This is really hard,” Miles admitted. “I’ve never put much effort into a date, which is bad, I know, but I never really cared for it before. I mean, I’ve brought flowers once. Like, ages ago. I think I got ‘em a supermarket or something.” He glanced at her, cheekily. “I really want to blow his mind tonight. I need more than some shabby roses for that!” 

“For what it’s worth, whatever you get him, that won’t be what he wants to crawl into bed with tonight!”

“Katie!”

#

Damn texts! Miles turned his phone off and shoved it into his pocket. He’d take care of that nonsense tomorrow. Tonight though? He straightened up and tugged on his jacket’s sleeves, adjusting everything into perfection. Then he took a deep breath, hid the box he’d come with behind his back, and knocked on Alex’s door. 

Wasn’t it silly? His heart was beating rapidly. He had sweaty hands and couldn’t stop wondering if he’d thought of everything! But he had, right? The table at the restaurant was reserved, the car was downstairs, waiting, the special surprise was all set up. He took yet another steadying breath. Everything was good! He just had to keep telling himself. 

_Try to relax, man!_

#

“And I’m having the most rotten fantasies involving that tie of yours.” His eyes lingered on him, dark and hungry. “Any chance you’ll let me ruin it?”

“Ruin it how?” Miles tugged on it as he began to feel the heat from Alex’s lascivious gaze, which licked up his body like flames. “Be specific.” 

“We’re surrounded by people,” Alex reminded him, lowering his voice to add, “If I say what I have in mind, there’s a real chance you might faint from the depravity of it.”

“That lewd, huh?”

“Worse.”

Miles scooted closer, undid the top button of his shirt, bit his lip as he begged, “shock me.”

#


	23. A Happy Place

**2015**

**London**

_Miles leaned with his shoulder against the large glass doors of the restaurant which lead out to the patio. The fancy London establishment had a strict rule against indoor smoking and for that – next to a long list of other reasons – Miles lacked all interest in remaining inside. But Jamie and Katie had decided to celebrate their anniversary here. Therefore, he couldn't go home. He might be cranky and annoyed, but he wasn't rude. Tugging his tie apart and opening the upper button, as if freeing himself from a deadly noose, he stretched his neck and breathed in deeply._

_He wasn't the only one who'd come out to enjoy some good, old tobacco. Roughly a dozen people scattered across the wide terrace, some were chatting, some stood by themselves. Two large benches sat on the far right, a few steps away from him._

_Alex sat on one of them._

_He'd noticed him the second he'd stepped outside._

_It was stupid, really. He never specifically looked for him, but some inexplicable reason his eyes always found him first, each time that he was around. Like they were programmed to zoom in on him or something like that. He snorted at that. It was more than stupid. It was embarrassing, actually._

_He looked elsewhere. He let his gaze wander. Tried to focus on the magnificent garden decorations. He attempted to find distraction in the small scenes of conversations that took place around him. But, like heat-seeking missiles, his eyes always returned to him. Never for long. He could fight the temptation to linger. He was capable of forcing his attention way. But not indefinitely. Inevitably, it drifted back._

_Alex seemed glum. Exasperated, almost. Miles certainly shared his mood! Upon arrival, he'd gotten a stern lecture from Jamie to stay the fuck away from Alex, to not exchange a single word with him, lest he wanted to be asked to leave._

_Fucking ridiculous!_

_All because he and Alex had gotten into a bit of a fight in Los Angeles last week._

_Well. Maybe the fight had been a bit bigger than he cared to admit. And maybe, just maybe, he and Alex had been on the verge of throwing punches. Maybe they'd made a pair of fools of themselves. But they hadn't done anything that warranted that harsh a warning. As if he'd ever dare to ruin Jamie and Katie's big night!_

_As he covertly, subtly, tried to sneak another peek at Alex, Miles got caught. Alex smirked at him. Despite his intentions to be good, to follow Jamie's warning and to not barrel headfirst into a risky situation, his feet carried him across the patio and towards the bench. Not waiting for an invitation, he sat down. “Just so you know, I'm breaking some big rule by being here.”_

“ _Why are you doing it, then?” Alex crossed his legs, placed his hands behind himself and leaned back to gaze at the stars._

_Miles mirrored his actions. Why was he here? Good question. He hadn't seen or spoken to Alex since getting out of the cab in Los Angeles. Since somewhat apologizing to him. But he'd never been good at doing what he'd been told. Walking up to him, speaking to him, after being made to promise not to, was a small act of rebellion. And it was a weakness. An inability to keep his distance. He knew he was tempting fate, but fate was a mean player and made it so fucking easy to tempt it! “Honestly?” A helpless shrug rolled from his shoulders. “The answer to that is very, very complicated. It might even require some therapy. Also, I'm a little drunk.”_

“ _Makes two of us.” Alex looked down at the ground, then sideways, at Miles, peering. “How'd you get drunk? The only shit they're serving tonight is champagne and wine.” That and a wide array of non-alcoholic beverages._

“ _Strange, right?” Miles slipped his hand into his suit jacket. “Almost as if Jamie doesn't want us to get our hands on the good stuff.” He plucked out a flask and wiggled it in front of Alex, slyly. “Thank God there's a liquor store across the street. Went there after dinner.”_

_A chuckle slipped from Alex's throat as he reached into his own jacket, to pull out exactly the same flask. “Slipped there before dinner.”_

“ _We're scarily alike,” Miles pointed out, almost perturbed._

“ _Too much so,” agreed Alex, equally uneasy about that from the looks of it. But he quickly brushed it off and shrugged. “Whatever. How are the odds that you got any cigarettes with you? 'Cause I lost mine.”_

_Miles pulled his Marlboros from his pocket, offered him one and then held up his lighter._

_Alex leaned in, lit the piece of tobacco and tipped his head appreciatively. “By the way,” he remarked, not hiding his resentment, “I was told in the bluntest of ways to stay away from you as well.” He rolled his eyes. “Feels harsh.”_

“ _Over the top, right?” Miles took a drag from the cigarette he'd lit for himself._

“ _Unwarranted.”_

“ _Unnecessary.”_

“ _Baseless.”_

“ _Undue,” added Miles, pointedly._

_Alex met his eyes. “Groundless.”_

“ _Unjustified.” He raised his brow. Waiting._

“ _Gratuitous.”_

“ _Superfluous. I can go all night if you want. Unless you need to go and grab your thesaurus. You know…to look up more alternatives.”_

“ _I,” declared Alex sternly, “don't need to do that. But I'll gladly wait for you to check your little app!”_

“ _Already told you,” stressed Miles, “that I don't need to do that.”_

“ _Just saying!”_

“ _Saying what?”_

“ _Nothing!”_

_Miles warily noted that, “maybe, Jamie has a point about you and me.”_

_A few seconds passed in which they held eye contact until Alex ripped his gaze away and sighed. “Yeah. Probably.”_

_Minutes ticked by. Alex was the first to be done with his cigarette. He tossed it away, not even looking for an ashtray._

_A moment later, Miles did the same. His curiosity got the best of him. “Why are you out here?”_

“ _They don't really like me at the moment,” Alex admitted quietly. “The last week…I've done a few things I shouldn't have done. I wasn't trying to be an asshole. Comes naturally,” he said lightly. His attempt at a joke, however, didn't come off that genuine. “What about you?”_

“ _Same, I guess.” As he said it, it occurred to him that their friends were holding onto their fight a lot longer than Alex and Miles did, themselves, and it was bothering him in a sense. They were involving themselves in something that wasn’t even about them. “Jamie keeps looking at me like he's expecting an apology or something. Matt and Nick keep avoiding me. One would think we offended them! You and I got into a fight. They should just stay out of it!”_

“ _Right?” Alex shook his head with a sigh. “They should just let us be. I mean, we've always fought. We don't need them to, like, look out for us or whatever. We'll be fine on our own.”_

_For once, Miles couldn't agree more. Whatever it was that he and Alex had, it was between them. It was complicated and likely even a little weird. But it was theirs and theirs alone and he didn't like it when people judged it._

“ _Got another cigarette?”_

_Miles snorted. “You should smoke less. Your voice sounds awful.”_

“ _My voice is fine, thank you very much!”_

“ _It sounds like you ate an entire block's worth of pavement!”_

“ _That gravel has been called sexy on more than one occasion,” Alex let him know._

“ _By whom?” sneered Miles. “Road workers?”_

_Alex's eyes turned small and sharp as he glared at him. “Cigarette or not?”_

_He handed them over. “Knock yourself out.” Only, when Alex did just that, stuffing more than half the cigarettes into his pocket, Miles gaped. “Are you fucking kidding me?”_

“ _Simmer down, would you? It won't bankrupt you to be a little generous!” Alex slipped his fingers into Miles’ pocket, fishing for something. “Where’s your lighter?”_

_Miles swatted his hand away. “You're not getting my lighter!”_

“ _Without a lighter, the cigarettes are worthless!”_

“ _Ask nicely,” suggested Miles sassily. “And I'll light one up for you!”_

_Alex’s jaw dropped incredulously. “Are you seriously telling me to say please?”_

“ _That's exactly what I'm telling you!” He held the lighter up in his hand, wiggled it tauntingly in front of him. “Go ahead. Do it! You know you have to!”_

“ _Fucking prick! You're getting off on this, aren't you? Your life must be damn sad if you need to get satisfaction from withholding a fucking lighter from me!”_

_Miles leaned closer towards him. “My life is just fine. Better even. Wanna know why? 'Cause all I'm doing is withholding a measly, fucking little lighter from you and it's bloody pissing you off!”_

“ _Give me the damn lighter. I stole your bloody cigarettes, it's worthless to you anyway,” gritted Alex, now stuffing the rest of the cigarettes into his pocket as well._

“ _Say please!” demanded Miles._

_Alex got into his face. “Fucking now, Kane!”_

_Between their faces, a hand appeared, holding a lighter. Neither one took it._

_Miles and Alex turned and spotted Jamie, who stood in front of them, looking murderously irate yet strikingly cold at the same time. “You two are fucking fighting over a lighter? I asked you – I fucking made you promise to stay away from each other, and this is the shit you do? Fucking argue over a lighter?!”_

_Interestingly, Miles wanted to stretch that he didn't feel as though he'd argued with Alex. They were just…being themselves. “Nothing happened,” he pointed out when the expectation for an explanation on Jamie's face became too big to ignore._

“ _Right,” Alex agreed, shrugging, as he glanced at Miles. “We were just, you know, talking.”_

_Jamie shook his head. “Now you're lying, too.”_

_He sounded deeply disappointed and Miles did feel bad for him. But in his opinion, Jamie was turning this into something that it simply wasn't. “You're overreacting!”_

“ _You were bloody fighting! Katie is inside. How do you think she'd react if she saw you two like this? Huh?”_

“ _Sometimes, things look different than they actually are,” said Alex tiredly. “Maybe you should try and trust us a little. We're fucking grown-ups, okay? If Miles and I decide to fight, then let us do it! We kept our voices down. Katie isn't here! We're not fucking bothering anyone, are we?”_

“ _That'd be really fucking nice it were true! I don't give a shit about your fights. I couldn't possibly care less. But it's getting to the point where it shows up in tabloids! Blind items are being written about us. About you! The internet is calling you a fucking egomaniac who can't play nice with others. Serious papers picked up your fight with Miles. There's a story out there that says you're an alcoholic after the shit you two pulled in LA!”_

“ _For what it's worth,” snapped Alex, “we're fucking rock stars. We're expected to be drunken dicks!”_

_Miles chuckled, despite himself. Alex had a point._

“ _You think this is funny?”_

_Miles gaped. “Keep me out of it! You got a problem with Alex, talk to him!”_

“ _You're part of the fucking problem! You're the one he keeps getting into fights with!” Jamie groaned as he became aware of the people around them, glancing and whispering. “See? That's what I'm talking about! It's not about our music anymore! It's all about us, and what we do off stage. Maybe it's a good thing the label got us new management. Maybe we need some rules! Maybe YOU need some rules!”_

“ _What rules?” bit Alex, offended._

“ _Something that'll turn you into a bloody professional!”_

“ _Jamie?” From behind him, Katie appeared, placing a hand on his shoulder. She glanced at them, then directed her attention to her husband. “Let's go back in. Let's dance, okay?”_

_Jamie hesitated but relented eventually. He walked away wordlessly._

_Miles turned toward Alex. “Any chance you got a cigarette? I got a lighter.”_

_With a mix between a snort and a chuckle, Alex handed him a one. Then put one in his own mouth. Miles lit them both. They both reached for their flasks. “What a night, ey?”_

“ _You got new management?” asked Miles._

_Alex grunted. “Some woman who doesn't know shit about music. Career type. Used to work for movie stars! Hate her already. Ancient demon, that one.”_

_Miles hated those, too. He tapped his flask against Alex's. “Cheers.”_

“ _Yeah. Cheers.” He took a big swig from it, then glanced at Miles, and cringed. “This is getting eerie.”_

“ _Absolutely!” Miles was on the verge of enjoying himself, despite being cigarette-less and, apparently, on the outs with Jamie! And that was really not a good precedent! He looked away from Alex and resettled his attention on the sky. “We shouldn't hang out like this!” He drank more and as his mind began to lose itself in the hazy shades of a good buzz, he found that, maybe, it would be harder than he imagined. Alex was half-bad company. He'd always known. But it became more and more difficult to ignore. He'd have to put in some serious effort and truly focus on his bad habits or else he risked beginning to like him!_

**Present Day**

**Oslo**

Miles laughed as his eyes landed on the ripped remains of a frilly, red thong, which dangled sadly from the edge of his drawer. “That one,” he said, “is a fantasy for the no-pile.” 

“I don't know,” Alex mused, sliding down the front of Miles' body with a smirk, “I quite liked the way it looked on you!” His hand stroke up Miles’ thigh and he scraped his nails there.

“Did you, now?” Miles tried not to drown in Alex’s caresses. Instead, he touched the side of his head gently, brushed his thumb against his cheek and smiled through his increasing arousal when his man leaned into his touch. “Should I go shopping then?” He bit his lip from growling as Alex groped his ass. “Add some to my wardrobe?” 

“I wouldn't mind if you put one on every once in a while! You've got the ass for it.” At that, he groped his ass again.

“Aren't you sweet tonight?” He couldn’t fight the shudder that overcame him.

Just as Alex reached between them, to take a hold of something that Miles couldn't wait for him to play with, he leaned up and stopped him, though.

Alex frowned, surprised. 

Miles looked down, hesitating. “I have to tell you something. I wanted to tell you when I got here. But, you were very distracting,” he said with a coy grin. “So, before I get distracted again – and risking the chance of ruining the mood – I spoke to Jamie earlier.” 

“Mood ruined,” Alex noted dryly. 

Miles rolled his eyes. “First of all, they all know about us. And they've known for a while. Not for certain, but they knew.” 

“And?” Alex crawled up his body and made Miles lean back, so he could lay down on top of him. Arms crossed over Miles' chest and below his own head, Alex sank down and closed his eyes. 

Locking his arms around him, Miles held him there. “And,” he continued, “I'd say they – or rather Jamie, is sad that we didn't trust him enough to be honest about us.” 

“Well, I'm sad about a lot of things, too,” said Alex flippantly. 

“Jamie wants to talk to you. But he isn't sure you'd want that.” 

“Only one way for him to find out. He can come to me and make the first step.” 

“He wants that,” assured Miles. “He already came to your room. Only, you weren't there.” 

“He could have come to this room. If he knows about us, he also knows where to find me.” Alex muttered something underneath his breath and his hand slipped between the sheets, fishing for something. “Damn thing has been vibrating all night.” He handed Miles his phone. “Who's texting you this late?” 

Shrugging, Miles looked, to find out. “Can't say. Anonymous number.” He read the text. “Whoever it is, they want to talk.” Tossing the phone away, he rolled them over and kissed Alex's throat. “Don't care to talk to anyone else right now.” 

“Only me,” smirked Alex, meeting his eyes. 

“To be perfectly honest, now that I've said what I've wanted to say, I'm not that eager to talk any further.” It was his turn to slide down Alex's body. “Remind me, what were you trying to do before I so rudely interrupted you?” 

Biting his lip, sinking his fingers into the short strands of Miles' hair, Alex guided his head towards a very specific part of his anatomy. “I was about to use my mouth for something.” 

“Were you?” As Miles placed a little kiss to his hip bone, his hand circled around Alex's hard shaft. Flicked his thumb over the tip. “Were you about to tell me a story, maybe?” 

“No words. No.” 

He kissed a path down lower. “Tease me, then?” 

“I was done teasing you.” His eyes squeezed shut as Miles’ fist began to move up and down in agonizingly slow motions. 

“Were you about to suck me, maybe?” 

“Please…yes.” 

And suck him, Miles did. Hungrily. Eagerly. Passionately. 

Alex was writhing and panting and moaning, all but ripping Miles' hair as his hips kept shooting off the bed while trying to push deeper into his mouth. Miles held him down with one arm, let his fingertips travel and tickle all over the insides of his thighs and grinned mischievously when Alex neared the edge. “Do it,” he spurred him on. “Fucking cum for me!” He sucked his tip, let go again. “I want you to use me real good! Fucking shoot in my mouth, babe!” 

Gripping his head, sinking deeply into the depths of his mouth, Alex grunted Miles' name again and again as he emptied himself inside of him. When he was done, Miles leaned up, licked his lips provocatively to catch every last remnant of him before meeting his lips for a fierce and dirty kiss that left both of them panting. 

Slipping his hand between them, Alex stopped mid-move. “Is that…?” 

Miles smiled sheepishly. “Spilled myself against your leg. Watching you fly apart like that…that was really hot.” 

Laughter burst from Alex, who pulled Miles deeper into his arms as he placed the blanket over them. His brow moved up. “I'm allowed to stay the night, right?” 

Was he— How could he doubt that? Miles kissed him so hard. “Fucking always!” 

“Good,” stated Alex. “’Cause I really hated leaving! How is it that we always, always end fucking in your room, anyway? I spent almost every night for the past weeks having to haul my ass out of a perfectly warm and comfortable bed in the middle of the night. I had to get dressed again, only to return into a cold bed. Meanwhile, you only had to close your eyes!” 

“Yeah, but, my bed became cold, too, once you left it.” 

Alex’s eyes widened. 

Miles raised a shoulder, shrugged slightly. He'd known that Alex had been somewhat joking. And even though they were getting closer, going so far as spending the entire night together, Alex had yet to utter a single syllable about his state of heart. Miles knew how he himself felt, but, for the life of him, he couldn't guess how Alex felt. 

Was it an infatuation? Was it lust that ran out of control? Did he dare assume that love had entered the picture? 

A warm hand touched his cheek, tearing Miles out of his thoughts. Eyes met longingly. “I must confess,” whispered Alex, hoarsely, “that it feels rather nice to sleep in your arms. And I quite enjoy it when you sleep in mine.” 

“So do I,” admitted Miles. 

Alex cuddled into his arms. “Let's do it then,” he hushed, closing his eyes, sighing blissfully. 

Fuck, thought Miles. If Alex wasn't at least a little bit in love with him, his heart would never recover. 

**Berlin**

**Mid October**

For the last week and a half, they had existed in a state of euphoric happiness. They had spent their nights together. They had gone out on dates, they had partied and had gotten drunk. They’d lived their lives as though the world was theirs to enjoy and nobody had been able to stop them. 

Miles entwined his fingers with Alex’s as they made their way home, toward one of Berlin’s finest hotels. It was almost morning and they hadn’t intended to stay out this long. Tomorrow would be filled with rehearsals and the day after that brought with it the next gig. 

It would be the first one since Oslo and the first one since Alex had told his bandmates that he was done with it all. He’d scarcely spoken to any one of them since that fateful night, either. 

A few hollow words here and there. Some platitudes. Some empty remarks when a reporter was around. But nothing meaningful. And not a single attempt had been made to fix anything. Everyone, it appeared, waited for somebody else to take the first step. 

Miles wanted to interfere. Badly. He wanted to lock them all into an empty room and keep them there until a solution would be found. In his opinion, the entire situation could be fixed in no time if only they would talk! It was bloody idiotic to avoid each other and watching his friends fight like this broke his heart. But he’d made a vow to himself to stay completely out of it and he had every intention of keeping it. 

Alex pulled on Miles’ arm, draped it around his shoulders and snuggled himself into his side. “Fucking cold tonight.” 

“We should have taken a cab.” 

“But I like taking walks with you.” 

His heart was thudding wildly. Alex really had a hold on it by now. And he kept dropping those little lines, telling him how much it pleased him to be in his company, how much he loved to do certain things with him and how happy he was. If Miles wasn’t wildly in love already, he’d tumble into it each and every time Alex smiled at him. Not that he wasn’t tumbling deeper, anyway. He fastened his hold on him. “Got any plans tomorrow night?” 

Laughter from Alex. “Let’s see… I had considered spending my evening with you.” 

“Good.” 

“Do you have anything specific in mind?” 

“Maybe,” he teased. “A little surprise for you.” He knew tomorrow would be a tough one for Alex. Having to rehearse with the band, given all that underlying and unresolved tension, would no doubt be hard. Therefore, he’d decided to completely take his mind off everything come nightfall. He wanted to offer him an unforgettable night! “Wear something nice.” 

Leaning into him, Alex’s lips slid ever so teasingly along his jaw. “Like…a dress,” he quipped. “Or a costume, maybe? Heels? Horns? Makeup? Swim trunks?” 

“A suit, alright?” Miles grinned, looked at him and stole a kiss from his smiling lips. “Dress fancy and sharp.” 

“Ooh, are we to go on a swanky date then?” 

“Something like that. But the actual surprise is what will come after dinner.” 

“Sex?” 

“Better.” 

Alex looked intrigued. “What’s better than sex?” 

“That’s the surprise.” 

“Spoiler me.” 

“Be patient, baby!” 

“Not gonna happen,” declared Alex. “Being honest here.” 

They reached the hotel. Miles held the large glass door open wide for him and Alex bowed grandly. “Merci beaucoup!” 

Immediately resuming contact, wrapping his arm around his neck, Miles pressed a big kiss to his cheek. “I love it when you speak French.” He was about to kiss him again, on the lips, deeply, and so he grumbled when his vibrating phone disrupted the moment. For a few days now, he kept getting texts from an anonymous number, every time suggesting the same thing: let’s meet and talk. It was getting irksome. 

“Same text again?” asked Alex. 

“Yeah. I texted back, asked who it is and what they wanted, but nothing.” 

Alex leaned up, pecked his lips. “Ignore it. Wrong number, probably.” 

“Probably.” Annoying as it may be, he still wanted to know what all that texting nonsense was about. They stepped into the elevator. “Weird, though.” 

“How about this?” Alex took the phone from Miles’ hand. “I’ll hold onto this one for a bit and you hold onto me in the meantime.” 

In an instant, Miles’ arms were tied around him. “Like this?” 

Alex’s grin matched Miles’. “Exactly so.” 

“Now what?” 

“Now…” Alex jumped up, wrapped his arms and legs around him firmly. “You can carry me to your room. I’m very tired!” 

Loud laughter bubbled from Miles’ throat as Alex held on tighter. Miles kept him firmly up and around him. “Your wish is my command!” 

“Perfect,” said Alex. “‘Cause I’d also like a foot rub, a beer, chocolate, and your chest to sleep on. In that order.” 

“You can have my chest,” countered Miles. 

“What about the rest?”

“I’m tired, too, all out of beer and the only chocolate I can serve is hazelnut.” 

“I hate nuts.” 

More laughter from Miles. The doors opened and he stepped out, carrying Alex toward his room. “Last night you didn’t…” 

-

Katie’s finger tapped a rose and it tipped to the other side of the vase. “Flowers? A grand bouquet? I love those!”

Miles stood across from her, surrounded by a wild array of dahlias and tulips. He scrunched his nose. “You’re a girl. Alex isn’t.” Sure, he’d given him a rose once. But it had been a spur of the moment thing and he wasn’t all that sure if Alex hadn’t taken it as a joke. “I don’t think flowers are the way to go.”

“Alright. Off to the next shop.” With a smile, she linked their arms.

“This is really hard,” Miles admitted. “I’ve never put much effort into a date, which is bad, I know, but I never really cared for it before. I mean, I’ve brought flowers once. Like, ages ago. I think I got ‘em a supermarket or something.” He glanced at her, cheekily. “I really want to blow his mind tonight. I need more than some shabby roses for that!” 

“For what it’s worth, whatever you get him, that won’t be what he wants to crawl into bed with tonight!”

“Katie!” 

“Oh, come on! Don’t blush now! Like I don’t know that the two of you have a wild sex life!” 

He did blush. “We…uh…why would you say that?” 

“Because you look like bloody glowing tomato!” She squealed as she squeezed his arm. “Tell me all about it!” 

“I won’t do that! Alex and I…we’re having…” How to put this delicately? “We’re enjoying each other.”

“I bet!” 

“Would you stop?” Her face sparkling with interest, prepared to hear the naughtiest of stories. But those belonged to him and Alex alone. “I don’t kiss and tell!”

Lips pulling into a pout, she looked away. “Not fair.” 

“It’s not like you’re spilling any beans about your sex life with Jamie!”

“Would that make you tell me any juicy stories? One of mine for one of yours? Alright!” Mischief danced in her eyes. “Jamie loves to use his fingers for all sor—”

It didn’t even take two seconds for Miles to shudder. “Stop. Just stop!” 

“What?”

“That’s like hearing sex stories about your parents!” 

“Hey!” 

“Sorry, alright?”

“Tell me one,” she begged. “I’m, like, your biggest shipper!” 

“I don’t know what that means.” 

“Probably a good thing.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Do me a favor though. Don’t google it! It’d only make you blush!” 

This conversation had turned into a very odd direction, found Miles, and frowned. 

Katie aimed her big, inquiring eyes and him and batted her lashes. “Just one. Pretty please.”

He sighed. Rolled his eyes. And gave in. “Not a word to anyone, you swear!” 

“I swear!” 

“I once paid a cab driver to look the other way while Alex…” He couldn’t believe he was actually telling her! Miles quickly glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching or in hearing distance. He leaned into her ear. “Wanked me off.”

Her jaw dropped. “You dirty hoe!” 

He laughed hard. “Shocked?”

“Jealous!” The smile on her face got enormous. “You two really get along, huh? I mean, I would have never taken Alex for the kind of guy to do something like that.”

“No?” Miles was stunned. For as long as he’d known him, he’d always assumed there was a very wicked streak to him. There had always been something in the way his gaze would linger on him at times. Back then, he wouldn’t have dared to assume it was sexual interest. For a long while, that dark, taunting, and forever daring expression in Alex’s eyes Miles had read as a desire to fight dirty and to argue rottenly. Until, slowly, he’d begun to spot little flakes of desire. “He and I…we’re a bit adventurous, I guess.”

“That’s a nice way to describe it. Tell me more. I feel like I’m getting to know a whole new side of him. Not sex stories, if you don’t want to,” she conceded. “But tell me what’s he like? Is he a romantic?”

“Totally. But he doesn’t know it.” His mind drifted back to all the little things that Alex had done, laying claim to Miles’ heart and not even realizing it. “He loves holding hands. Nothing escapes his attention and even when you think he missed something, he didn’t. He’s got this way of holding me in his arms before I fall asleep.” His looked at Katie and turned shy when she giggled giddily at him. A shrug rolled from his shoulder. He must be sounding so cheesy. But he couldn’t help himself. “He says I’m the one who wants to cuddle, but he’s the one that keeps snuggling up against me. When we’re out to dinner, he loves pulling out the chair for me and it drives him a little mad when I reach the table first and do it for him. Sometimes, he carries my guitar. I’ve never asked him to do it. I’m not even sure he’s doing it consciously. Just grabs it and carries it for me. He made me a list of some of his favorite classical music pieces. Handwritten! So I’d have something to fall asleep to!”

Her eyes went wide. “He got you his own version of a mixtape?” 

Miles smiled and he knew he looked like a fool, drunk on love. But he didn’t care. He’d never been happier! 

“Have you told him yet?”

“What?”

“That you love him!”

Miles took a deep breath. In love, he was. Madly so. But love was such a big word. And once you’ve said it, you couldn’t ever take it back. It was there, then. Out. In the open. Susceptible to pain and disappointment and sadness. He met her eyes and lightly shook his head. “Besides, I really don’t know how he feels about me.”

“Oh Miles!” Katie smiled warmly at him. “You’re such a guy! How can you not see, huh?”

“See what?”

“The obvious?” 

“Stop speaking in riddles.” 

She laughed, leaned up, pecked his cheek and grinned. “Just tell him. Trust me. Do it.” Then she held on his arm and brought him to a stop. “He’s always eating chocolate and cookies. How about some sweets?” Her hand motioned to the store in front of which they’d come to a rest. “Berlin’s finest Pralinen.”

“Perfect,” he agreed. “Let’s go buy some!”

-

Damn texts! Miles turned his phone off and shoved it into his pocket. He’d take care of that nonsense tomorrow. Tonight though? He straightened up and tugged on his jacket’s sleeves, adjusting everything into perfection. Then he took a deep breath, hid the box he’d come with behind his back, and knocked on Alex’s door. 

Wasn’t it silly? His heart was beating rapidly. He had sweaty hands and couldn’t stop wondering if he’d thought of everything! But he had, right? The table at the restaurant was reserved, the car was downstairs, waiting, the special surprise was all set up. He took yet another steadying breath. Everything was good! He just had to keep telling himself. 

Try to relax, man!

He heard sounds. 

Miles hadn’t seen or heard from him all day. He’d been busy setting everything up and Alex had been stuck doing rehearsals and press. The door moved. Alex appeared, smiling bashfully. 

Miles swallowed hard. “You look so fucking hot!” He had planned on being a perfect gentleman, to greet him properly and hold out his arm for him. But seeing him dressed up like this, with shiny shoes and a pristinely knotted tie to top it all off? Damn it, that did bad things to his self-control! Alex looked like the fucking finest dessert the world had ever produced! Miles strode forward, grabbed his head with one hand and kissed him needily. 

“They offer room service, you know?” Alex laughed between kisses. “In case you change your mind about going out. We could eat in the tub, listen to some nice music, have endless amounts of sex…”

It sounded all so very alluring, so insanely tempting, but Miles tore his lips away from him. Once again, he straightened up and exhaled deeply, stealing his resolve. “No! This night is special! We’re going out.” He pulled the arm from behind his back. “For you.”

“A gift?” Alex beamed, sly and yet coy at the same time. He took the small rectangular box from him. Looked at it. And laughed. “You got me chocolate? Thank you!”

“The finest one.” Miles played it off as a joke, tried appearing cool and playful, but his heart was still hammering away in his chest. He couldn’t remember having ever been this excited to go on a date with somebody! And not just because he’d put in some serious effort to dazzle Alex. He really was head over heels in love with him! 

“You know how to impress me!” With a chuckle, Alex turned around, placed the chocolate on the small table next to his hotel room’s door and then pulled it shut behind him. He slid his arm around Miles’. “Let’s go then. Lead the way, darlin’. By the way, you look very sharp, too.” 

His face would be numb from all the smiling, of that Miles had no doubt. But he couldn’t fucking stop. He’d never known happiness like this. He was bloody bursting with it! “You should know, we’re not returning here tonight. We’ll be spending the night at a different place.”

“We are?” As they stepped into the elevator, Alex slipped his arms around Miles and grinned. “Are we maybe going camping? Should I go back and grab a pair of boots and a spare blanket?”

Miles leaned in, kissed his jaw. “You won’t be wearing anything tonight.” Another kiss. 

Alex curled himself deeper into Miles’ arms. “No?”

Burying his face into the crook of Alex’s neck, Miles moaned into it. “Just you and me and some kinky little surprise.”

“Miles!” Alex bit his earlobe playfully. “Not fair! Tell me.”

“Make me,” he whispered, stole a final kiss from his lips, then offered his arm when the elevator doors chimed open. “Our car is waiting…”

-

“That suit is making your ass look fucking phenomenal,” stated Alex, relaxing back in his chair, inside Berlin’s most applauded Steakhouse, as Miles shifted in his seat. “And I’m having the most rotten fantasies involving that tie of yours.” His eyes lingered on him with a vicious hunger. “Any chance you’ll let me ruin it?

“Ruin it how?” Miles tugged on it as he began to feel the heat from Alex’s lascivious gaze, which licked up his body like flames. “Be specific.” 

“We’re surrounded by people,” Alex reminded him, lowering his voice to add, “If I say what I have in mind, there’s a real chance you might faint from the depravity of it.”

“That lewd, huh?”

“Worse.”

Miles scooted closer, undid the top button of his shirt, bit his lip as he begged, “shock me.”

Alex uncrossed his legs, sat nearer, and leaned toward him. “I want to hold on to it,” he croaked, “like a leash, grabbing it tight while you ride my cock as if I’m the first drop of water after a trip across the desert.”

“Do it,” breathed Miles, gulping away the dryness in his throat. “Tonight.” His lids felt heavy and his mouth parted while images of it all filled his head and preoccupied all available brain-cells. Those who still received blood, that was. 

Alex, wetting his lips seductively, smirked. “Where are we doing it?” The words, gravelly and thick, made Miles’ cock twitch eagerly. “Tell me, baby. Where are we headed?”

A teasing grin widened on Miles’ face. “Somewhere.”

“Is it a different hotel?”

“Maybe.”

“It must be a special hotel, then. Else we could have stayed at ours.”

“Wait and see.”

In an instant, all jest and banter slid from Alex’s face. He rolled his eyes and huffed. “I’m not good at this, alright? I’ll have you know! I’m bloody impatient and insanely curious. Come on, where are we headed?”

Snorting, Miles shook his head and laughed. “Nope.” 

“Miles!” 

He kept shaking his head.

Alex tipped his body forward, reached across the table and wrapped his fingers around Miles’ silk tie. 

Miles stopped laughing and stared at Alex, holding his breath. 

Tugging gently, Alex flashed him a carnal look that left very little to the imagination. “For that,” he rasped, “I’ll be pulling very hard on your leash!”

Fuck.

Now he was hard. Rock-Fucking-Solid! Miles groaned. He covered Alex’s fingers with his own, all but pulling him off his chair. “Dance with me.”

“Now?” Alex blinked in surprise.

“It’s either that,” he professed, his voice thick and low, “or taking you right here, right now, on this table and I’m not sure how the other guests would feel about that.”

“Who gives a damn,” growled Alex, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I’m yours for the taking!” 

Miles tugged him along, grumbling. “Don’t fucking tempt me!” 

Alex winked.

Miles grunted. He grabbed his hand, held it up and wrapped his free arm around his back, bringing him close. Their bodies were touching everywhere and he found that he wasn’t the only one who’d gotten more than a little aroused. Breathing in deeply when Alex placed his cheek against his, Miles began to lead. 

The soft chuckle slipping from Alex’s throat hit his skin like a tsunami, destroying most of his resolve to be good. “You’re leading again,” whispered Alex. Then he placed a light kiss against his jawbone.

Legs about to give out, Miles held firm onto Alex. “I know.”

“I prefer to lead.”

“I know that, too.”

“Will you let me?”

It was Miles’ turn to kiss his neck. “Nope. But feel free to punish me for that by pulling on my leash later.” Laughter escaped him when he felt Alex as he shivered in his arms. “Turned on?”

“Careful, babe,” warned Alex. “Or we will fuck on that table!”

He held onto him for as long as he could, for as long as his body allowed it. But which each gentle sway, with each whiff of his scent, with each little kiss and caress, Miles felt himself losing hold on his control. They were surrounded by too many people and he couldn’t do what he wanted to do. The kind of kisses he had in mind were too provocative, too pure and too intense to give in the company of strangers. Or anybody, really. 

“How do you feel about dessert?” asked Miles hoarsely, as Alex led him back to their table. “Is it that important to you?”

A laugh from Alex. “It’s very overrated.”

“Good.” Miles waved for the waiter. “Let’s go! Now I wish I’d kept the driver around!” 

“The car left?” 

Nodding, Miles reached for his credit card, noticed that Alex did the same and shook his head. “Allow me.” He knew by now that it was tough for Alex to let him pay for things. Alex genuinely liked taking care of people and that included paying for dinners and drinks. But Miles, in return, loved taking care of Alex and he got a tiny bit of a kick out of it when he managed to draw his card before Alex could.

“I told the driver we wouldn’t need him for the rest of the night.” The waiter came with the check and left with Miles’ card. “You said you liked taking walks with me and our final location isn’t too far away, so…”

A smile lit on Alex’s face. “You’re taking a walk with me? Even though it’s fucking cold outside and you hate chilly temperatures?”

“I got you to keep me warm, right?”

“You do,” assured Alex, softly, biting his lip. 

The waiter came back with the card and the receipt. “Thanks,” said Miles and held out his hand for Alex. “Shall we go?”

“To the final destination,” ribbed Alex, entwining their fingers.

Miles paused, to capture his lips in a quick but thorough kiss. “To the hall of mirrors…” 

.

.

**Spoiler Chapter 24**

#

He hated these kinds of conversations. He never knew what to say, which was because he never knew what he was expected to say. Was he supposed to read some signs? Guess thoughts? Barrel on or abort completely? “We haven’t really discussed it yet. Have we? What we are?” Alex kept his arms around Miles to avoid having to meet his eyes. God knows what he’d find if he looked into them now! “We don’t have to discuss it now. We don’t have to discuss it at all,” he added. “But…I’d like to see you after the tour. I’d like to continue seeing you after the tour.”

#

Alex held him closer. “I…” He still struggled to say it. That he loved him. And it was so bloody easy to say it in his head. Even scream it when the room was empty. But here, in Miles’ arms, it felt impossibly hard and Alex couldn’t figure out why! It fucking annoyed him.

#

  
  



	24. Too Close To The Sun

**Quick note:** Thank you all so much for your love, kudos and comments. They are all greatly appreciated. Here’s the new chapter, I hope you all like it.

And, bit of a spoiler ahead, if you’d like a visual of the surprise that Miles has for Alex, it’s a real place. It’s the _Mirror Room_ of the _Propeller Island City Lodge_ in Berlin, Germany. If you plan on taking a trip to Berlin, I suggest check out the hotel. It’s got some cool rooms!

**24**

Alex was high. He was high on happiness and joy and, well, love. There was a real chance that Miles’ hand was emptied of blood and squeezed into death, but he kept his grip tight and couldn’t find it in him to let go. It did his mind in how much he needed to touch him and to kiss him and just feel him all over himself. He’d never experienced anything like it before and he wasn’t prepared for it. He was defeated by it, almost. He was too happy, he feared. He was flying too high, too close to the sun. He felt his wings being singed by the heat, and yet he could do nothing about it since it was this exact, dangerous heat that kept his heart so wonderfully warm.

Glancing sideways, finding Miles sneaking little looks at him, Alex grinned. He was an unusual one, his Miles. When he’d picked him up earlier that night, knocking on his hotel door, standing there like a kid on his first date, he’d looked so bloody nervous. His hands had been sweaty, Alex had felt it. And his eyes had crinkled and sparkled with innocent excitement. Until their lips had met and Miles had once again demonstrated in the most beguiling of ways that there was very little innocence left in him. Alex had been tempted to haul him into his room and tear his clothes up, but Miles had legions more self-control than Alex had and when Miles had declared, resolute and decidedly, that they were going out, Alex hadn’t been able to ruin it. His guy had doubtlessly put in a lot of effort into this night and he didn’t want it to be in vain.

Miles’ sneaky little looks got more and more intense and Alex breathed hard. “Keep staring at me like that and we won’t make it to the hotel.”

“Sorry,” laughed Miles, letting go of Alex’s hand, only to wrap his arm around his waist, drawing him closer. “You look very sexy tonight. Hard to resist!” 

He’d never cared for those kinds of compliments before. But, hearing Miles say that he fancied him so much made his heart flutter in ways that amazed him. Biting his lip coyly, Alex pressed more of himself against Miles’ body. Not only was his frame hard and hot and wildly attractive, he was also pleasantly warm as the icy winds of Berlin’s cold October night hit his face squarely. “I love this. Taking walks with you.” He liked the intimacy, the fact that it was just them. He liked even more that Miles did this for him. Alex knew for a fact that Miles preferred warm cars to cold walks and would have gladly taken a cab. But the night’s sky was clear and full of stars, which could be seen despite all that nasty light pollution. And after they’d danced, Miles had let him know that their destination wasn’t too far away. In walking distance, actually. Then he’d held out his hand and Alex had all but melted underneath Miles’ perfect eyes. Alex snuggled closer and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for tonight.”

Meeting his eyes, Miles leaned in for a quick kiss. “Wait ’til you see the rest!”

“Before you shower me with even more surprises, I got a little gift for you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. He’d even tied a little red bow around it. Laughable, truly. But he hadn’t been able to stop himself, knowing Miles would appreciate the extra gesture. 

And the way his eyes widened in surprise really made it worth it. “For me?”

Alex nodded. “Take it. You’ve been exceptionally kind to me lately and…you know, it’s not a big thing or anything. Kind of a funny little gift.” He’d never been nervous before Miles. He’d never struggled so much with the words. He wanted to roll his eyes at himself. “Just take it.”

Miles did. And because he couldn’t open it and keep his arm around Alex at the same time, he stopped walking and, in return, Alex placed both hands on Miles’ waist to keep the contact. With a sly little smile, Miles flipped the box open. “A keychain?”

“Read it,” said Alex. 

Taking it out and dangling it from his finger, Miles read the small engraving. “You’re my favorite dick.” And promptly succumbed to laughter. “It’s perfect.”

“Made me think of you,” admitted Alex cheekily. 

Wrapping both arms around Alex’s neck, Miles leaned in, brought their noses together, brushed his lips against Alex’s. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to use it or anything. It’s just—”

“Don’t,” said Miles. 

Alex stopped.

They were alone on the sidewalk, in the quiet dark of the night. Lowering his voice, whispering, Miles nuzzled into Alex’s neck. “It’s a gift from you. Of course, I’ll use it. I really do like it. I love it!” He kissed his cheek.

Alex’s eyes fluttered close. It was such an insanely nice sensation to have Miles in his arms. So close to him, so securely wrapped inside his arms, he felt himself growing bolder and dared to say what he’d been meaning to speak out for days now. “Tour will be over soon. Three more weeks and then it’s all done.”

Miles’ lips kissed the crook of his shoulder. “I know.”

“I’ve thought about spending some time in Paris. Clear my head and all that. And I was wondering…do you have any plans for that time?”

More kissing. “Nope. Planned on relaxing a bit. Maybe take a little breather. I have to be home by Christmas, though.” He laughed, and Alex felt the heat of his breath against his neck. “Else, my mom won’t be happy.”

“I have to make the same trip home,” chuckled Alex. He held him closer. “But after our final show in Paris, what then?”

“No plans.” 

“Maybe…I mean, you could stay, then.”

“In Paris?” asked Miles. 

“With me,” clarified Alex. 

Miles stilled in his arms.

He hated these kinds of conversations. He never knew what to say, which was because he never knew what he was expected to say. Was he supposed to read some signs? Guess thoughts? Barrel on or abort completely? “We haven’t really discussed it yet. Have we? What _we_ are?” Alex kept his arms around Miles to avoid having to meet his eyes. God knows what he’d find if he looked into them now! “We don’t have to discuss it now. We don’t have to discuss it at all,” he added. “But…I’d like to see after the tour. I’d like to continue seeing you after the tour.”

Miles leaned away from him, forcing Alex to meet his eyes after all. His expression was unreadable. Surprised, if anything. “You do?”

“Why do you sound so stunned?” They had fun together, did they not? They got along great! “We’re also friends!” 

“I know.” A timid smile made its way to Miles’ face. “I kinda like you a lot,” he admitted. “A whole lot. I just didn’t know if you liked me, too.” 

“Of course I like you, too!” How could Miles assume that Alex didn’t? He did bloody fucking more than just liking him. He’d fallen in love with him. Despite his best efforts to stop it! He’d moved heaven and earth to not fall for him and did that work? No. Here he was. In love. “I like you a whole lot as well.” 

“So…” Miles smirked, edging closer. “Paris?”

“It’s a nice city.” 

“I know. I like it.” 

“How convenient. I live there.” Joking like that helped him get onto steadier feet. 

“Am I to stay at your place?”

Alex grinned again. He slowly regained his stride. “Would you mind?”

“Depends,” teased Miles. “Do you have a coffee maker?”

“I do.” 

“Good. Then I don’t mind.”

Laughing, Alex grabbed his waist hard and pulled him in. Kissed him. Kissed him again. Kissed him deeper. Miles’ arms snaked around him and after that, it was a passionate display of affection that unfolded on Berlin’s street. A passing car honked.

They let go of each other with smiles. “You’re easy to please,” remarked Alex, took Miles’ hand and resumed walking.

Miles fell in step next to him. “It only seems that way.” He pecked his cheek. “I can be very demanding if I want to be.” Their fingers entwined. “Maybe I’ll make you work for it later…”

Alex glanced at him sideways. Winked. “Do it.”

-

“What’s so bloody special about this door that I’m not allowed to look at it?”

Alex felt Miles’ soft chuckles as they crash-landed against his nape. “Just relax, would you? We’ve made it here. Just a few more seconds and you can look!”

He heard a hotel door lock clicking open. Miles had been insisting that he kept his eyes closed ever since bloody nearing the hotel. Alex had no idea where the fuck they were, what kind of hotel this was, and whether or not he even wanted to open his eyes.

“Take two large steps forward.” 

Rolling his closed eyes, Alex did.

“Oh, well, take another one.” 

“Miles!” 

“Do it!” 

He did.

Behind him, a door fell shut. Suddenly, he felt Miles behind him. Impossibly close. He felt his heat, his hard body pressed against his backside, he sensed his breathing and shivered against him. “Now what?”

“Now,” rasped Miles, “we’ve arrived. In the past couple of weeks, I’ve come to find that you’re really into doing it in front of a mirror.” He licked his neck. Alex shuddered. “And I remembered your fantasy about doing a bit of a home video.” A kiss. “Open your eyes.”

Alex did. “Holy shit! Where the fuck are we?”

“You could call it a sex hotel, or rather one that entices people to be a little adventurous,” chuckled Miles as he slid his hands around Alex’s very aware body. “But a very classy one. Kind of an upper scale one.” 

Taking a look around the room, Alex found it covered in mirrors from top to bottom. Endless reflections of reflections of even more reflections. A simple, large bed sat in the middle and on a small table nearby stood a little tripod.

“Give me your phone,” said Miles. 

“You’re serious?” His heart drummed faster, excited.

Miles nodded.

“Your fantasy, your film.”

“My fantasy,” elaborated Alex, “is fucking you on camera. Our film.” He took out his phone, walked up to the tripod, put his phone in place and pressed record. Then he faced Miles. “Now?”

“Now,” hushed Miles, walking up to him, “I’m yours to use as you want.” He kissed him hard. “Tell me what you want me to do. Be very specific.”

That, Alex could be. He loosened his tie as he walked over to the bed, eyes roaming the endlessly reflecting surfaces. “I want you to move that sexy ass of yours over to me.” He spun around, faced him. Undid his shirt. “I want you to do me real fucking good. How is that? Specific enough?”

Miles remained in place. His gaze was zeroed in on him. “No.”

A smirk. “I want you to take that big, beautiful cock of yours and shove it so far up my ass that I’ll feel you for the rest of the week. Better?”

“We’re getting there.” He moved closer.

Alex kept going. “I want you to grab me and make me yours in any way you wish. I want you to use me for your own personal pleasure.” He licked his dry lips, swallowed. “I want you to be really rough and vigorous. I want you to leave a mark on me.”

Standing in front of him now, Miles grabbed Alex’s tie and pulled hard on it, bringing his lips impossibly close to his own. “And then?”

“Then?” Alex leaned in, brushed the very edge of his lips against Miles’ and turned smug when he gasped. “Then I want to do the same to you.” His fingers began to unbutton Miles’ shirt, tantalizingly slow. “Then, I want to grab your tie, grip it tight and pull it hard as I fuck you into oblivion. Sounds good?” His brow rose. 

Miles’ eyes, dark as midnight, filled with sin, were on him. He ran his hands languidly up Alex’s body, up to his chest, brushed his shirt tenderly off his shoulders. Then he shoved hard.

Alex fell back, onto the mattress.

Miles lowered himself, put his weight on his arms and hovered over him. “Suck me.”

A naughty grin on his face, Alex slid off the mattress, to his knees and began to undo Miles’ pants. Lowered his zipper. And grunted in arousal when he spotted the fine and intricate royal blue silk panties that hid underneath that exquisitely well-cut suit. “You’ve been wearing these all night and didn’t tell me?”

“Blue is your favorite color, is it not?” Miles cupped Alex’s cheek with a sweetness that mocked everything they were doing at the moment. He dragged his thumb over his lips only to stare, wide-eyed, when Alex slipped out his tongue to lick it provocatively. 

“It is my favorite color,” he said thickly. Although, to be honest, every color Miles chose to wear had the potential to be his favorite color. His fingertip traced the outline of Miles’ hard shaft and he took great pleasure in the way it twitched eagerly beneath the flimsy fabric. He kissed him through the material.

Miles shivered everywhere.

In a split second, Alex grabbed his ass, flipped them around and made Miles fall onto the bed backward. He sat up on his knees, tore the frilly thing asunder and sucked his hard cock deep into his mouth.

“Fuck!” Growled Miles.

“Mmmh,” hummed Alex. 

  
  


**2016**

**London**

“ _It’s disgusting, isn’t it?” Alex sat down next to Miles, who looked up from his plate, only to blink in startled surprise. “They, I mean. Katie and Jamie. How long are they married now? Like…” Shit, how long were they married? He ought to know. He was there when it happened. “Years!” He ignored Miles’ snort. “They’re bloody all over each other. How fucking in love can you be? Kissing, groping. Blech!”_

_A heavy sigh passed Miles’ lips. “You know, I was sitting here, peacefully enjoying my fancy meal, successfully avoiding looking at them. Until you showed up. Thanks for ruining it for me, Turner.” Miles placed his index finger to the edge of his plate and pointedly shoved it up the table and away from him._

_Alex chuckled. “You’re welcome. Always happy to help.” He briefly checked the contents of Miles’ discarded plate and scrunched his nose. “You chose the fish? What’s wrong with you, huh? They had meat on the menu, Kane!”_

“ _It may shock your delicate sensibilities, but some people do eat fish.”_

_He rolled his eyes. “I know. I just never thought you’d be one of those lunatics. But, really, I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, it’s you.”_

_Miles shook his head. “Same procedure as last year, Turner. I’m trying to behave and you’re hell-bent on getting me into trouble.”_

“ _Last year, Jamie was the one who started the trouble. You and I were enjoying a peaceful moment in the dark. You had cigarettes with you,” he reminisced dreamily. “I liked that.” He had genuinely enjoyed his short little moment of time alone with Miles, last year, at Jamie and Katie’s wedding anniversary. His bandmates were under the assumption that he and Miles had fought that night. But no, that hadn’t happened. They had conversed. In their own way. Twisted as it may be, it was their language. Not that they didn’t fight. Often enough, actually. Just, now and then, they managed to chat a bit as well. “Heard your new album. It’s quite…you.”_

_Looking squarely at him, now, Miles raised his brows quizzically. “Is that a compliment or an insult? To be honest, I’m not sure which one I’d prefer coming from you.”_

“ _You just can’t take a compliment, can you?”_

“ _Learn how to make one and I might.”_

_Alex took a deep breath as Miles made a show of looking away from him. Alex crossed his arms and legs. Sighed. “I like your album. There. Happy now?”_

“ _Aw, got me a fan, didn’t I?”_

“ _Fuck you.”_

“ _That’s better!”_

_Chuckling, Alex let his gaze linger on the happy couple. “Got a cigarette?”_

“ _Depends. Got a lighter?”_

“ _Matchsticks. Going old-school.”_

“ _They got this rule about indoor smoking here.”_

_Alex lowered his head, annoyed. “So I have to get up and outside? It’s bloody raining.”_

“ _Yep.”_

“ _Don’t act so smug! You want to take a smoke, too! I can tell!”_

_Miles let his head roll back. He stared at the ceiling. “So?”_

“ _I don’t have cigarettes with me,” said Alex. And lied. He didn’t like him. Miles. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself more and more often lately. But he’d spent the better part of the evening sitting wedged between Matt and his wife and Nick and his wife and Jamie and Katie and all he’d been able to think about was getting up and walking over to Miles to enjoy some good old-fashioned banter and maybe a dirty joke or two about the ridiculousness of love._

_Only, now that he sat here, Miles seemed particularly uninterested in doing him that favor. So, he’d lied about the cigarettes, hoping that would suffice as a reason to spend a bit more time with him. “You seem glum tonight. Where’s your feisty side? I’ve given you plenty of opportunities. Jamie is nowhere near us to take note—”_

“ _I’m having a bad day, alright?!”_

“ _Cigarettes help.”_

“ _Oh, for crying out loud!” Miles pulled his Marlboros out, slammed them in front of Alex. “Take ‘em already!”_

_Alex hissed at him. “Would you be quiet?! You want Jamie to give us another lecture? Get your ass up! Let’s go!”_

“ _Where?”_

“ _Outside!” He was tempted to pull on Miles’ arm, but, at last, he got up and followed him out._

_Once there, barely shielded from the downpour of water, hovering closely by the wall, Alex took Miles’ Marlboros, took one out and handed them back. He tried to light it up, using those silly matchsticks that had seemed like a cool thing earlier in the dry but turned out to be fucking useless in the rain._

_Miles held up his lighter, visibly bit back a grin. “Same procedure as every year, huh?”_

_Alex smirked. “What was so bad about your day?”_

“ _Since when do you and I talk about our personal lives?”_

“ _Since you’re incapable of properly arguing with me and thereby ruining my evening’s entertainment. Come on, let’s get it over with.” Alex’s brow rose mockingly. “What’s weighing your poor, suffering soul down, my frie—” He stopped himself short._

_Eyes wide, Miles paused in the midst of lighting his own cigarette. “Were you about to call me—”_

“ _Don’t say it,” warned Alex quickly, pretending like it was all a joke when in reality, he wasn’t all that sure. “Seriously. Figure of speech. Nothing more. But if you speak it out loud, it might become a reality!”_

“ _God forbid!”_

“ _Yeah!” He pretended to shudder. “Anyway, what’s with you?”_

_A scoff from Miles. “Prepare to laugh. Ran into somebody today. Somebody I used to date. She’s pregnant. Not from me! Whatever, we had a brief chat and she told me that could have been mine if I weren’t so selfish and cold. I don’t think I am, but – not the point.” He shrugged. “She made me wonder, like, it’s been years since I fell in love. Then this night, this anniversary. Watching our friends be all married and happy…”_

“ _Makes you question if there’s something wrong with us, right?” Alex had experienced his own moments of doubt. It was one of the reasons he’d craved to leave his table, to escape and find an equal mind in Miles. He didn’t want to fall in love. He didn’t plan on it anytime soon. And he’d do his best to forever avoid the tragedy of it. But, every now and then, one’s mind began to wander and he couldn’t deny that life was lonely at times._

_Pressing his back against the wall, closing his eyes, Miles finished his cigarette, then tossed it away. “Most days, I know why I’m not in love. Why I don’t want to be in love. And then there are days when I find myself thinking, is it because I decided to, or is it because there’s nobody out there…”_

“ _For what it’s worth,” noted Alex, mirroring Miles’ position against the wall, “I’m not in love either.”_

“ _What difference does that make?” asked Miles, laughing._

_Alex glanced at him sideways, a sly smile on his lips. “We’ll always have each other. Misery loves company, right? So, while every one of our friends is off riding into their sunset, we’ll drink their liquor and eat their food.”_

_Miles met his eyes, a vaguely amused look on his face. “Think we’ll ever run out of arguments?”_

“ _You and I?” Alex scoffed. “Never.” As he said it, he noticed the vibrant color of Miles’ irises, iridescent tones that changed and morphed with each new flicker of light. And for the first time in a very long time, his heart beat faster. It shocked him instantly. To the core. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t meant to see that. These kinds of details, they weren’t designed to be taken note of by him. Something changed. He felt it on the inside, and as fast as his shock had set in, he locked the doors around his heart, sealed it into an airtight compartment, and threw away the key. Then, he did what he knew how to do best. “I could start a million fights right now.”_

“ _Do it,” challenged Miles, bemused._

_Alex flipped the cigarette away. To him, it wasn’t a joke. Right now, it was a method for survival. “Your album is very Miles Kane. But it’s also very Miles Kane. I’d have wished you’d be a little less Miles Kane on this one.”_

“ _Wow,” spoke Miles, taken aback. “You weren’t kidding. Well, it’s coming from the guy who plays the same fucking chords over and over again with each fucking song that he writes.”_

_Shoulders squared and eyes sharp, Alex straightened up, away from the wall. “Are you saying I’m copying myself?”_

“ _I’m saying you’re not exactly as inventive as you’d like to be.”_

“ _Inventive? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”_

“ _Do you need to get your dictionary for that one?” sneered Miles._

_Alex’s nostrils flared. “I fucking know what inventive means, but if you use it in such a fucking stupid manner, don’t mock me for not getting it!”_

“ _You two are sooooo predictable.” Matt stepped between them, tiredly, startling not just Alex but Miles as well. Placing a hand on either one’s arm, he steered them towards the door. “Come on, let’s go, kids. Jamie wants to make a toast. Your presence is required for that. And fucking stop fighting, would you? I mean, I applaud the fact that you actually went outside to do it, but just fucking stop, alright? Just once, I’d like the two of you to have a normal, grown-up conversation. You’d be amazed by how much you have in common!”_

“ _Fucking nothing,” muttered Alex._

“ _Nothing at all,” agreed Miles._

**Present Day**

Alex’s toes curled into the bedding, his back arched and his head was spinning into a million directions at the same time. His body was covered in sweat. His breath came out in staccato intervals. On top of him, Miles was, straddling him, riding him hard and untamed and straight into his desired oblivion. He dug his fingers into his thigh while his other hand fisted the once pristine and now crumpled tie around his neck, pulling hard and recklessly on it. Miles moved faster, with abandon, and Alex felt his lovers’ hands as they scratched his chest, driving both of them even wilder. “Fucking go harder!” Alex grunted and moaned and grasped for every breath of air when Miles did exactly that. His eyes landed on the ceiling, and he got lost in the way the mirrors portrayed their actions. He saw every angle, every little bit of what they did and how they did it and turned him on even further. Live porn. And they were filming it, too. He couldn’t wait to see their masterpiece. How filthy would it be? Would it look hot? Or would they shake with laughter? “Smile for the camera,” he joked until Miles scraped over his nipples and Alex lost his vision, all but passing out from the pleasure of it. “Shit, yes! Yes, Miles! Yes!” He tried to thrust, to set the pace, thrived to take control, but Miles didn’t let him. It spurred him on, made him lose all control, all restraint.

Jerking hard on the makeshift leash, Alex brought Miles down, brought his lips against his own and kissed him savagely. Tongues tangled. Miles dove one hand into Alex’s tousled hair, fisted it.

Shuddering everywhere, Alex flipped them over, still fighting for dominance. It was his turn, now. He seized Miles’ legs, held them up, against his shoulders, then immediately regained his hold of his tie, panting as he thrust into him, over and over, mad with need. “Cum for me. Fucking come for me, babe!” He circled Miles’ cock, stroke it, made him groan louder and louder. “That’s it! Yes! Do it!” His own release hit him like an explosion. “FUCK!”

“Alex,” breathed Miles, then he threw his head back, shivering and shaking. “YES!”

As Miles’ legs slid down, Alex sank into Miles’ hot, sweat-slicked arms and just breathed. In and out. In and out. His lungs were burning. His lids were too heavy to keep open. His entire body was drained of energy. And, yet, he’d never felt better. Exhausted, but nuzzling his nose into the crook of Miles’ shoulder, Alex nestled himself deeply into Miles’ embrace and got comfortable. “If I’m crushing you,” he snickered, out of breath, “I’m sorry. But I can’t fucking move off you.”

“Don’t you dare,” rasped Miles. 

It ought to be disgusting. Being so close, skin on skin, when every last inch of the both of them was coated in sweat as cum stickied their bellies. Only, it wasn’t. It was intimate and sexy and it was something that Alex couldn’t possibly imagine ever experiencing or wanting to experience with somebody else. It was trust. And acceptance. And something that gave him the physical reassurance that there was absolutely nothing separating them.

He kissed Miles’ neck and moaned, slowly, leisurely getting rid of the ruined tie. A hoarse laugh escaped him. “Fuck! There’s a red mark that runs all the way around your neck, babe!”

“And I got press tomorrow morning,” chuckled Miles. “That’s going to be interesting!” 

“Shit!” 

Miles placed a kiss to Alex’s shoulder. “Stop worrying! I’ll just wear a scarf or something. Or I show it off! It was bloody worth it, wasn’t it?” His lips brushed Alex’s ear. “You made me cum so hard!”

Hot and cold flashes ran up and down his spine. Alex grinned hard. “Anytime, babe!”

**2016**

**London**

“ _Stop it!”_

_Alex looked to his side, where Matt now stood. “Stop what?” he asked, as if he didn’t know what his drummer was talking about. He was leering again. Against his better judgment. His eyes were glued to Miles, to his every move. And he was so bloody tempted to go over and start another fight. It’d be so easy. He’d just have to pick a topic, be a little judgmental or a bit haughty and off they’d go._

“ _I never understood it, you know? Your thing with him? What’s it about fighting with Miles that fascinates you so much?”_

_Fascinating? That wasn’t it, was it?_

_Matt continued. “It’s like you’re waiting for a chance to pounce and get into it again.”_

“ _That’s not—”_

“ _Don’t deny it. Doesn’t even matter. Just saying, why don’t you two try and have a normal chat for once?”_

“ _There’s a reason he and I don’t do that. He’s—”_

“ _Evil incarnate with a capital D-chord. Yes, you’ve told me before. Whatever.”_

“ _Why are you here?”_

“ _Have you seen Katie? Jamie is looking for her.”_

_He shook his head. “Know what, I’ll go look.” He planned on going for a smoke anyway, and with any luck, he’d run into her on his way out. Anything to avoid anymore discussions about his relationship with Miles._

_Pushing the backdoor open, cigarette halfway in his mouth, Alex stopped immediately when he saw her getting into it with their manager. He carefully pulled the door back in, made sure it concealed him, but didn’t close it all the way. That, his curiosity didn’t allow. Not when Katie pointed one of her long, crimson nails threateningly at Marianne’s face._

“ _One more time, I swear, and you’ll never see Jamie again,” bit Katie. “He’ll fucking quit the band, I promise you!”_

“ _Sweetheart, don’t be naive.” Alex was repulsed by the arrogance he heard in her voice. “You don’t really think he’d quit for you, do you?”_

“ _Sweetheart,” mocked Katie, “you’d be amazed by the things Jamie would do for me. If you want him to stay, you keep your distance from me. Don’t you fucking dare speak to me again. Not a single syllable. Are we understood? Or shall I write it down for you?”_

“ _Your choice,” said Marianne. “I’m just doing my job. Sooner or later, he’ll come to see it as well.”_

_Katie fished for something in her purse as she rolled her eyes hard. She pulled out a pen and a piece of paper. “I have to write it down for you, then!”_

_At that, Marianne left. Alex quickly hid behind a corner, let her pass by, then made his way out. “Katie? What was that about?”_

_She met his eyes with her own wide ones. “Uh…”_

“ _Katie.” He stepped closer. “We’re friends. Tell me, please.”_

_After a moment of hesitation, she caved. “Bitch told me to keep my distance from my own husband whenever there’s a camera or reporter around. It’d be bad for business for my husband to constantly remind his female fans of his wife, she said.” Katie shrugged. “Bitch can bite me. Don’t worry. Jamie won’t quit. Let’s just keep this between us, alright? No need to trouble him. You know how protective he gets.”_

_Alex couldn’t believe it. That miserable, overstepping, rude—_

“ _I can handle her,” assured Katie._

“ _I’ll talk to her. She’s going too far. She’s messing with friends! Her job is to handle the bad shit, not do the bad shit!”_

“ _Alex, it’s alright! She tried and failed.”_

“ _If she tried with you, she’ll go try with Matt and Nick, too.”_

“ _And they won’t allow it, either. You’re about to release your new record. You don’t need manager-trouble right now. Let it go, alright? Do it for me. Please.”_

_It went against every fiber of his existence. But her pleading eyes did him in. “Fine. But if she—”_

“ _If she tries again, I’ll handle it.” She grabbed his arm. “Come on. We’re likely missed by now.”_

“ _I’ll be right there. Just wanna—”_

“ _Smoke? Nope. You’re smoking too much as it is. Come on, let’s move.” She nudged his back. “Smoking is bad for your voice. And you’re single, you’re gonna need your voice to enchant somebody new.”_

“ _I need my voice?” Alex laughed at that. “What’s with the rest of me? That ain’t enough? Is that why you haven’t introduced anymore of your friends to me?”_

“ _I’m no longer your personal dating app! You want somebody, do it the old way. Fall in love!”_

_A groan slipped from his throat. “Not if I can help it!”_

“ _One day, my friend, you’re gonna fall so fucking hard and I’ll be right there, watching front row as it happens. Mark my words! And then I’ll mock you relentlessly for it.”_

“ _Never,” stated Alex firmly. “Who would I even fall for? Some groupie? Who else am I meeting lately anyway?” His mind briefly wandered back to his moment with Miles. He quickly shook his head. What a ridiculous thought!_

“ _I got my eyes set on somebody.” She winked mischievously. “But you’re not ready for that one.”_

“ _Who is she? Do I know her? Have I met her yet?”_

“ _Maybe?” A smirk. “You’ll need your voice for that one. Trust me.”_

  
  


**Present Day**

“You snore.” Miles’ eyes were closed, his lids firmly shut, but there was movement. Very little, but enough to count as a reaction. Alex slipped further towards him, dapped the tip of his nose and smiled. “Wakey, wakey, sleeping beauty.”

“M’sleepin’”

“I know.”

“Lemme.”

“You got press this morning.” Alex laughed when Miles curled his arm around him. His lover tried his hardest to smother him with hugs, but it was futile. Rolling on top of him, Alex quickly dove in for his morning kiss, stealing all tiredness from his sleepy face. It was his favorite morning routine. Wake up, curl up against Miles and then kiss ’til their lungs burned. There was no better way to start any day. 

Switching positions, Miles suddenly hovered on top of him. He brushed tangled strands of hair from his face, as softly as he could, making Alex smile warmly. “Don’t wanna do press.” He dipped his head, nuzzled his neck. “Wanna stay here.”

“Me, too.”

“Let’s do it, then.”

“We can’t. You’ll get into trouble, and then I’ll get into trouble for getting you into trouble! And that,” he chuckled, “is just too much trouble. But I could squeeze you in for lunch.”

“Ooh, I like the sound of that!”

“Food, Miles. Not sex.” 

It was Miles’ turn to laugh. “Coming from you!”

“Well. Maybe a little sex.” Alex winked playfully. And then he just looked at him. Stared, almost. He got lost in his beautiful eyes. In the ever-changing colors that lived there. In the play of emotions that he witnessed. In the love that he imagined seeing there. “I’m happy,” he whispered, almost taken aback by the fact. “I really am. I shouldn’t be, right? So much is happening. But I am. And it’s because of you.” Miles swallowed hard. Alex held him closer. “I…” He still struggled to say it. That he loved him. And it was so bloody easy to say it in his head. Even scream it when the room was empty. But here, in Miles’ arms, it felt impossibly hard and Alex couldn’t figure out why! It fucking annoyed him.

Another kiss from Miles. “You make me happy, too.” His voice was low and quiet, as it always turned whenever he confessed to something important. Alex kissed him back.

“There’s something else I want to tell you. But—”

A knock on the door. “Room Service! You asked for breakfast to be delivered at nine-thirty.”

With a snort, Miles dropped his head, rested his forehead against Alex’s chest and sighed. “Reality wants us back.”

Alex nodded. “We can only disappear for so long, it seems.”

“What did you want to tell me?”

That he loved him? Alex shook his head. The moment had passed and he felt incapable of speaking it out, anyway. “Doesn’t matter, babe.” More kisses. “Let’s eat.” He went to the door, covered himself with a bedsheet, and opened it. He took the tray, fumbled for some cash to tip the guy, then closed the door again.

Miles sat on the edge of the mattress, naked. And he pulled Alex onto his lap. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being you. Who’d have thought you and I end up here one day? I mean, a few months ago, all we did was fight. But, turns out, you’re this incredible, amazing person that I can’t get enough of.” 

Alex watched in awe as Miles clung to him, spilling his heart so readily. “So are you,” he let him know. He wanted him to know how much he cared about him. How much he’d do for him. How much he needed him. But the fucking words, they were stuck in his throat! “Time’s running out on us. You have to be back in the hotel soon! And I don’t want to go. I want to stay. I want this tour to be over already.” Alex was done with it. He just wanted to go home, take Miles with him, and live a little. He wanted to travel with him, on their own terms and time, he wanted to go out with him and discover the world anew. He kissed him hard. “Let’s just get this day over with.”

.

.

**Spoiler Chapter 25**

#

“Tell me what you would have said!”

Jamie hesitated for a long moment, then turned his head, rubbed his eyes and shrugged. “That the two have fought for as long as I can remember and that you…”

Alex snorted.

Jamie rolled his eyes. “Yes, damnit, I would have warned you! I’d have said that—” He leaned closer, lowered his voice. “I’d have told you to stop it and that fucking Miles isn’t worth risking both your and his career for!”

#

Crouching down, Alex brought his hand to Miles’ face, gingerly. “Babe, I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” And he wanted to help him so badly. “Please.”

Miles remained stoic. “I don’t need help.” He scooted away from Alex. “We…can’t…” His voice dropped lower with each syllable and Alex strained to hear him. “We’re…over,” whispered Miles, at last.

#

  
  



	25. Never Meant To Be

25 Never Meant To Be

Alex sat in the hotel’s restaurant, waiting. Miles was late and it wasn’t like him to be late. He’d never been late before. Not on tour, and never before that, as far as he remembered it. Miles was very finicky about time and showing up at a certain point. He considered it part of a good upbringing and Alex had made fun of him for that one on more than a few occasions. But, he liked that Miles was meticulous about certain things. It made him a little predictable in this world of theirs in which so little else was. Checking once more, looking towards the door, Alex again saw nothing. No sign of him. 

Where was he? Something important must have come up. Else, he would have called or texted or found a way to let him know. 

“Can I sit down or…”

Glancing up, Alex found Jamie standing by the table. He looked uncertain, out of place, almost. As if he didn’t know how or why he was here. And because they’d been friends for so long, Alex felt bad for him. He nodded.

Jamie sat down. “I don’t want to keep you or anything. If you want to go…”

“Actually, I’m waiting for Miles. But, never mind. How are you?”

“Been better. You?”

“Same.” Alex put one arm on the table, fidgeted with an empty plate. “It’s awkward, isn’t it? It’s never been that before.”

“No?”

Alex looked at him. “Has it?”

“For the past few days, I thought about apologizing to you. But every time I thought I had the words, I realized that I don’t.”

“‘Cause you don’t feel sorry,” joked Alex, well aware how ill-placed it was. Here was Jamie, trying hard, and here was he, making light of it. But his mind was elsewhere. Where was Miles? He was half an hour late already!

Jamie leaned back, a distant, faint smile on his lips. “You and I aren’t friends anymore. And we haven’t been for a long, long while.” 

Now, Alex paid attention. “Say what now?”

“Think about it. You’re my bandmate and I’m your guitarist. We hang out, we talk music, band business and all that. But you don’t like me anymore. And I don’t like you anymore. If we’d meet now, we wouldn’t even consider hanging out together, would we?”

No, thought Alex. Or, yes! What nonsense! “We’ve been friends for years. I know all about you. We’ve seen the worst of each other. I held your icky, greasy hair up when you barfed on the floor of our tour bus ‘cause you ate that moldy sandwich! I was there when your kid was born. You’ve been to my aunt’s funeral with me. You're the one I call when I have something exciting to tell! You and I…” Alex couldn’t believe what Jamie was saying. 

“When was the last time you called, though?”

The words hit like a bomb. 

Alex couldn’t remember. 

Shit. Was it that long ago? 

“Yeah,” said Jamie. “Once it sinks in, it really sucks, doesn’t it?”

“So we talk less than we used to.”

“You roll your eyes when I enter a room,” Jamie pointed out.

Alex was tempted to do it now. “Because you always criticize me! You used to laugh with me. Now you make me feel as though I should be embarrassed about myself! There are times when I felt like shit after you’ve dropped by. When reporters ask me a question, you give me no chance to reply and instead say some stupid shit that you would have never even thought about years ago! You act all serious and grown-up and…”

“Responsible? Somebody has to, Alex! I have a family. I have to watch out and think about the future. It’s no longer one big, never-ending party for me. When I screw up, it has consequences!” 

“Mistakes are part of life, Jamie! Bad interviews, bad press - that shit doesn’t hurt you! It doesn’t even matter! We’re not some squeaky clean, lab-produced band. We’re musicians. We have edges. We’re real. We screw up! That’s why our fans are still with us.”

“Are you telling me you honestly don’t care that you’re called an alcoholic in the press?”

“I swear to you I don’t! I couldn’t care less. The people that matter to me know me and know that it’s not true. And everyone else can fucking bite me.”

“I care that people call you that.”

“But why?”

“Because you’re not.”

Alex’s shoulders fell. 

“I don’t get it. You know? You and Miles?” He looked away, almost embarrassed. “A part of me has always been jealous of your relationship with him. No matter how badly you fought, next time you met, you immediately gravitated towards each other. But when you and I get into it…takes ages before somebody makes the first move.”

“When you and I fight,” confessed Alex, looking away as well, “I don’t have to apologize for saying a bad word or shit like that. I have to apologize for being who I am. I have to apologize for kicking out a reporter that crossed a line and you took his side and wanted me to respect somebody who didn’t deserve to be in that room in the first place! You want me to make nice with that…with Marianne. I won’t ever do that! Miles and I, we fight and we’ve said horrible, awful things to each other. But even at our worst, I’d have never asked him to apologize for saying what he believes in.”

“The things you’ve said to each other – how can you be together now? How can you move past that? And if you can forgive that, why can’t we move on, too?”

“The worst thing he ever said to me was the truth. And I forgave him because I said the same to him. Miles…” Alex couldn’t help the smile that came to his lips. “He likes me because I’m exactly who I am. Flaws and all. He doesn’t say that I need to change. He’d never ask me to. You say I’m arrogant and aloof and that it makes it hard for you to defend my words to others. Like I’m some kind of burden to you. A hardship. Or a punishment, even. I’m something you constantly have to deal with. It bothers you and you let me know. So I keep apologizing for who I am and I’m growing tired of it. And it annoys me. And I let you know. I don’t want to do that. I want to tell you all about my life. Hell, I wanted to tell you about me and Miles! But you would have ruined it for me. Not on purpose, but you would have warned me that I risked too much! I mean, risk what? Losing fans? Selling a few records less?”

“That’s not—”

“Tell me what you would have said!”

Jamie hesitated for a long moment, then turned his head, rubbed his eyes and shrugged. “That the two have fought for as long as I can remember and that you…”

Alex snorted.

Jamie rolled his eyes. “Yes, damnit, I would have warned you! I’d have said that—” He leaned closer, lowered his voice. “I’d have told you to stop it and that fucking Miles isn’t worth risking both your and his career for!”

“Miles said the same, you know? Different words, maybe. But, he was hard to get. And I had to put in some real effort. I have never done that before, for anybody. But I did it in heartbeat for him. For the guy I’ve been fighting with from the moment I met him. Because this thing between us, it’s real. It has always been that. It was worth it. It is worth everything. Because I love him!”

Oh God! 

He’d said it. 

Out loud. To somebody. Not to Miles, sadly. But he’d finally gotten the words out in front of another human being!

Jamie stared at him, wide-eyed. “Love? Alex. Don’t! Miles is my friend. Don’t do that. Don’t!”

And, suddenly, there it was. Loud and clear. “Miles is your friend? What about me?” At this point, his hurt was not as biting and sharp as it would have been a while ago. Or even a few minutes ago. But it was still there. And he felt it everywhere.

“You know what I mean!”

“No, Jamie, I don’t. I haven’t said those words out loud in nine years. I just told you that I love him and your first concern is that I don’t really mean that? That I’m what…dumb? That I don’t know what I’m talking about? That I’m some selfish asshole who knows shit about love?”

“No, Al—”

“Somewhere down the road, and I don’t know when that happened, or why that happened, your opinion of me took a nosedive into arctic waters! You’re right, you know? I don’t like you anymore. And there’s your reason why.” Alex got up from the table, took a last look around to search for Miles, but he was nowhere in sight. “See you on stage tonight. Five shows left. I’m counting now.” With that, he walked away.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, checked for messages. Nothing. 

Damnit, Miles! Where the hell are you?

-

He found him at the arena. Hovering in the corner, minutes away from playing his set. He was fiddling with his guitar, a nervous gesture, Alex knew. He wanted to know why he was that. Nervous. He never was before a show. He was a natural born performer. He lived for the stage. He’d rather be on stage than sleep, eat or fuck. Well, maybe not fuck. But it was a close one. Seething, Alex marched up to him, took the guitar from his hand and put his other hand to his chin, to tilt his face up. “Where the fuck have you been? Why didn’t you call or text? Are you alright? Did something happen?”

Miles shook his head, ready to speak, but Alex wasn’t done.

“Good! So you worried me for no reason at all, huh? You blew me off for lunch as well. Want to explain that?” He stared into his eyes, pressed him for an answer, but Alex stopped when he saw the look in his eyes. They looked glassy. Hollow. His hand let go of his chin and gently touched his cheek instead. “Babe, talk to me. What happened?” He let go of the guitar and brought his other hand to Miles’ face as well. “Is something wrong with your mom?”

“No!” He quickly shook his head. And shocked Alex when he attempted to step out of his reach. But the wall behind him was blocking his exit. And Alex’s hands remained. 

“I’m serious, Miles.” He stepped closer.

Miles tensed everywhere. 

Alex didn’t understand what was going on. “Have I done something?” Had he? He wasn’t aware of anything! “Babe? You look like you’re about to cry! What the fuck is going on?!” He drove him mad. He wanted to help. To do something. To make it better. But Miles just stood there. Frozen. Lost. 

“Set,” he said, stuttering, “my set…I have…I need to go.”

“No, you need to tell me what’s wrong!”

Miles wiggled free, put muscle into it, broke out of Alex’s hold. “Let me go. My set…I have to go!” 

“Miles!” Alex hurried after him but in no time, Miles was on stage and Alex was out of options. He’d be out there now, for thirty minutes and he had no doubt that those would take a fucking eternity to pass!

“Alex,” somebody called. That voice. He felt the hairs on his neck stand up. She was the last person on earth he wanted to deal with right now.

“Fucking what?”

Marianne had the decency to not meet his eyes. “Interview. Last minute addition. Could you come?”

No. He couldn’t. He needed to have a chat with Miles, fucking tie him down if need be, and figure out what the fuck was wrong with him! But Miles began playing his set now. And as he observed him for a moment, he found that he was doing well. He was remarkably cold and concentrated, and lacking all of his usual spark, something the audience would never notice, since they didn’t know him as well as Alex did, but he was a consummate professional and delivering. 

Rolling his eyes, Alex spun around. “Interview? Where?”

“Outside. The others are waiting for you.”

“Okay.”

-

It hadn’t been a small last minute interview. It had lasted almost half an hour. Film crew and all that! She’d ambushed him, that horrible woman. She’d forced him to smile and pretend as though everything was rainbows and unicorns while Jamie and the rest of his former band had spend the majority of the time chatting about future projects, new ideas for the next album and possible timeframes. As if it would actually happen. He’d wanted to burst so bad. His cheek and his tongue hurt for he’d bitten down on them hard and repeatedly to keep from exploding in front of a live camera! 

They were fucking done and he was fucking dying to tell the world. He couldn’t wait for the day to come that he could grab Miles and flip his former band, Jamie especially, the damn bird! 

As Alex hurried back to stage, to catch Miles when he’d be done with his set, he found that he was too late. His own band was hot on his heels, Marianne included, and stage hands hustled to get them wired and ready to play. 

“Miles cut a few songs,” said one of the guys. “Wasn’t feeling well. He went back to the hotel.”

“No 505 with him, then,” remarked Matt, sounding disappointed. 

“No, Matt, no 505 with Miles,” snapped Alex. Fucking shit! Here he was, stuck on stage, forced to perform and be a showman, when his heart and his mind and every other bit of him wanted to be elsewhere. 

Matt flipped him off. “Asshole!” 

“Likewise.” 

“Guys, there are cameras backstage,” Marianne reminded them. 

“Bring one to me, then,” dared Alex, teeth gritted. “I’m suddenly feeling chatty!”

“Just do your fucking job,” snarled Jamie. 

As Alex bit his paining tongue again, to avoid blowing this whole night out of the water, he took a steadying breath, calmly turned around and walked out on stage. Then he put on his smile, greeted the cheering crowd, faked his excitement to be there, and sang. This time, for the first time ever actually, the rest of the band had to fall in tune with him. And he could have sworn he saw Matt giving him the finger once more. 

-

“No wonder you didn’t open your door. I feel bad for the guests next to your room, though. I might have called out your name a little too loud.” Alex took the last steps towards his own hotel room door and kept his gaze on Miles, who sat on the floor in front of it, looking like crap. “Come on up, babe.” He held out his hand. “Let’s go inside.”

“I can’t.” Miles swallowed hard. Not the first time Alex saw him do it today. And it made him uneasy. As if it was a bad sign for what was to come. “Can’t go in there.” Miles no longer met Alex’s eyes. And gulped again. His breathing became hard and forced. There was a paleness to his face that was utterly unfamiliar. 

Crouching down, Alex brought his hand to Miles’ face, gingerly. “Babe, I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” And he wanted to help him so badly. “Please.” 

Miles remained stoic. “I don’t need help.” He scooted away from Alex. “We…can’t…” His voice dropped lower with each syllable and Alex strained to hear him. “We’re…over,” whispered Miles, at last. 

It took a moment, maybe even a minute, for Alex to wrap his head around what he’d just been told. When it finally registered, he shook his head sternly. “No.” 

Miles twisted his head even farther away from him. “It’s not your decision to say no,” he said.

“And it’s not yours to end it, either. Tell me why. Something happened. I know it.” He got up, began to feel restless. “Explain it to me, Miles. Just this morning…you were fucking there,” he shot. “You said I make you happy! Last night…it was fucking incredible! So, no. You don’t get to just end it!” Panic began to set it. “What the fuck is going on?!”

“We aren’t meant to be, Alex!” Miles got up, began to pace. His fingers drove through his short hairs. 

He was struggling and it killed Alex, because it was as clear as day to him that he was fighting with himself and if Miles didn’t want to end it, why the fuck was he doing it? “That’s something you decided just now? Out of bloody nowhere?”

“We were never meant to be! We should have never begun! You and I…we were doomed from the start!” 

“You and I,” hissed Alex, “were always meant to be!” He’d no idea where the words came from. But he knew he meant it. He felt it! “We are good together! We work great together!”

“Alex, I can’t be with you! You have to let me go, don’t you get it?”

“I don’t!” Was he shouting, now? He didn’t know. He didn’t care, either! “I—” Reaching out, he grabbed Miles’ shoulder.

Miles jerked away. Eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t touch me! I don’t have any feelings for you. We’re in too deep. It was supposed to be sex and just that. And it’s no longer that. But I don’t love you. I don’t care all that much for you. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry that I…” He struggled for air. For the words. For control. “It’s all my fault. And if you hate me, I understand. Maybe you should hate me. I deserve it! I have to go…I have to…I’m sorry!” And then he left. He ran away, really. Not running. Striding, rather. Only fast. 

Alex was stuck, frozen in time and space. He looked after him, saw his figure retreating. Saw him rounding the corner and vanishing out of sight. He couldn’t move, though. Couldn’t follow him. As though somebody had taken away his ability to control his body. His legs gave out. He collapsed to the floor and found himself in the very spot he’d discovered Miles in, just a few minutes ago. 

Minutes ago. 

A lifetime ago. 

Miles had broken up with him. Out of nowhere. And why? Why? Alex couldn’t understand it. He’d intended to confess his love to him. He’d planned on spending the night in his arms. He craved his kisses and his warm arms. His soft and sweet smile. His tender lips. Now he’d have to go to bed alone. For the first time in so long that he couldn’t even remember the last night he’d spent without him! 

His eyes darted from the floor to the far end of the hallway to the window on the other side and then to the ceiling. As if any of those spots held answers, but each direction carried nothing but deafening silence. It made no sense at all. They’d been unimaginably happy just this morning. And he’d expected them to be equally happy now. 

But they weren’t.

He was alone again. 

Because, somehow, Miles didn’t like him anymore. 

Alex leaned back, closed his eyes and just tried to breathe. In and out. In and out. And again. 

-

“Alex? It’s Katie. Open up.” 

Alex stirred. The blinds were up. The room was brightly lit. His eyes squinted against the harsh sunlight and he grunted as his hand went to his head. A brutal headache weighed him down. It was throbbing and prickling and painful and it spread through every last inch of his entire body. He reached for a sheet, a pillow, anything to block the brightness out. But the only things he found were dried-up little liquor bottles. He’d ransacked the minibar last night. 

At the sight of his actions, memories of last night began to resurface and the numbing pain turned merciless. 

Miles had left him. 

Out of nowhere. 

He’d left him stranded, alone, in this world that he no longer liked. 

His hand reached out again, this time looking for remnants of alcohol. 

He could have sworn he’d seen a full vodka bottle before passing out. Where the fuck was it?

“Alex!”

That voice again. Who’d call on him now? What time was it anyway? What day was it? “Hnh?” He grunted back. It was his only reply. Words, at this point, were too much to ask for. 

“It’s me, Katie!” 

“Gnh!”

“Open up, will you!”

No! He didn’t want company. He wanted vodka. 

Vodka and Miles. But Miles wasn’t an option. Vodka would have to make do. As he struggled for it, impatiently grabbing and reaching, the empty bottles fell to the floor, clinkering and disrupting his silence. He groaned again. Finally lifting his heavy head, finding the task to be much harder than he’d anticipated, Alex decided to give up. Screw the liquor. Sleep, then. 

His head dropped back onto the bed and he closed his eyes, falling asleep immediately. 

When he opened his eyes again, the sun had ceased to be not one bit. He was still in the same spot, on the same bed, struck with the same headache and troubled by the same fact, which was that life sucked hard. 

“Jamie told me about your conversation with him.”

Alex whipped his head to his side, finding Katie sitting on the floor by the bed. 

He winced in pain. He’d moved too fast. “How’d you get in?”

“Miles told me you paid the maids to let you sneak into his room. So I did the same. I was worried about you. Last night, I mean, you all but ran out after the concert. I get that you don’t want to spend more time than necessary with Jamie but…”

“Don’t care about him,” muttered Alex. He kept his head down, on the bed, kept his arms and legs as they were. He was powerless at the moment. Hungover. Tired. Maybe even hungry. But he didn’t care to eat. He felt drained. Abandoned. 

Katie reached out, touched his arm. “Alex. Shit, I didn’t think it’d throw you this hard. You and Jamie are on the outs for, like, weeks now. Did he tell you anything that didn’t tell me? I mean…you look like a car crashed into you!” 

“Miles broke up with me.”

She gripped his arm tightly. He cringed in pain. “He did what?”

“Last night.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t tell me. Just told me that we were doomed. And not meant to be.” His gaze crawled over the bed, across a wide array of empty bottles. He was still searching for that elusive vodka bottle he imagined having seen last night. 

“That explains his sudden exit, then.”

Momentarily forgetting the alcohol, Alex frowned. “Huh?”

Katie rolled one shoulder. Her eyes were full of pity and he felt disgusted by it. “Left a note for us. Said he’d leave for Vienna early. Business meeting or something. It’s why I knew you’d be in your room. I thought you knew. I thought… Shit, Alex, I’m so sorry! It doesn’t make sense, though. He told me he—”

“Told you what?” He’d resumed his search for the liquid solution. 

“Never mind. Like, he broke up with you out of nowhere? No fight, no argument, no—”

“Out of fucking nowhere,” snapped Alex and rolled onto his back, shielding his eyes with his arms. “Fucking go away, Katie! He’s gone! He left!” And he took with him every chance for a talk, an explanation, anything! “Just leave me alone!” 

“Ale—”

“Go the fuck away!”

“But—”

“There are no drugs in this room, no liquor left! I’m not fucking suicidal or depressed or sick and whatever other crap you might think! I’m heartbroken.” As he said it, he felt his eyes dampening and was tempted to laugh at himself. He was such a miserable, pathetic cliché! A long breath escaped his lungs and with it, even more energy vanished from his body. But he truly was heartbroken. And it felt like nothing he’d ever felt before. He’d always thought his ex-girlfriend had pulled a hard number on him years ago! That one had been hard. It had been painful and it had shaken his feelings of self-worth, his confidence and it had permanently damaged his abilities to trust somebody. This one, though? 

It just left him feeling empty. 

Lonely. 

Broken. 

A hollow shell. 

Like the strings of a broken guitar, he tried to function. But what for? 

“Just go away,” he said, quietly, pleading. 

And, at last, she did. 

  
**Spoiler Chapter 26**

#

“I love you, man! I want you to be happy. And, of course, I want Alex to be happy.”

“Just not happy together?”

“No, fuck! Don’t put words in my mouth!”

#

She looked familiar. Someone he might have known in a previous life.

“I swear to God, if you forgot my name I’ll bloody your nose!”

He blinked. “I’m pretty drunk.”

“Anna. You asshole. We used to date. We fucking used to live together!”

“Oh. Yes. I had a feelin’ I knew you.”

A snort. “Drunk doesn’t begin to describe what you are.”

  
#


	26. Elvis And I

26

**2018**

**Mid October**

**Berlin**

**Yesterday…**

He was bouncing. He was bloody bouncing and it made him laugh. Miles grabbed his jacket, tipped his head to the reporter one last time, grinned effortless and full of vibrance when the rest of his band laughed at his giddiness and theatrically left the conference room of the concert arena, which was currently serving as a hub for pre-show interviews.

Bouncing.

Fucking silly.

Amazing, what love could do to people!

“Miles?”

His feed landed firmly on the ground with a thud. He turned around, smiled saccharinely fake, and sighed. “Marianne. What can I do for you? Shouldn’t you be with the Monkeys? Cast a new lead singer or something? Turn one of the greatest rock groups of all time into a boy band?”

“Don’t worry, my singer will return to me in no time. And before you know it, the new album will drop and off to the top of the charts they’ll fly.” She leaned against the wall, phone in one hand, purse clutched in her other. “Do you have a moment? It’s important. It’s about Alex.”

She sure was illusional, thought Miles. But his good mood made him generous. And Alex was busy anyway, right? “I got a moment.”

Marianne motioned for an empty office down the hall. “We should go in there.”

“Why,” frowned Miles. Whatever it was she wanted to discuss, if it needed to be said behind closed doors, he was tempted to call his lawyer and maybe a hellhound or two for protection.

“Like I said, it’s important.”

Even she couldn’t pull him from his high today. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.” He followed her inside, rolled his eyes when she closed the door and took a seat on the desk when she sat down on the small leather couch against the opposing wall. “Well?”

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I certainly wasn’t,” he let her know. “First, I wasn’t aware you wanted something from me and second, have you reached out?”

“The texts?”

He’d been vaguely bemused by it all, so far, but not anymore. Straightening up, he crossed his arms and spoke seriously. “Those were yours?”

“You didn’t know?”

“How was I supposed to know? I don’t have your number. You didn’t reply when I texted back, and you never identified yourself. What the fuck were you doing texting me for days?”

A surprised look flashed in her eyes. “You don’t have my number?” A quick laugh. “Tell you what? That never even occurred to me. Certainly makes sense now. Anyway, I’d like to discuss Alex with you. Your boyfriend. My lead-singer.”

“What about him?”

“It appears he can’t be both.”

“Guess it’s a good thing, then, that he’s no longer your lead-singer.” As much as he hated the fact that the Monkeys were more or less broken up, he was relieved that Alex had finally gained his freedom from her.

“He’s got you, now.”

“He’ll always have me.”

“What about the rest of the band? Do they have you, too? You’re not like Alex. You actually listen to me. Not just superficially, out of politeness, like most of my clients do. You don’t like me and don’t respect me. You likely consider me a bitch and I don’t blame you. But you listen, because you know, deep down, that I understand my work and that I’m that good at my job.”

“Get to the point.”

“Alex is and always will be a part of the Arctic Monkeys. His heart is in that band. His blood and his sweat and his tears have gone into all the songs that you and the fans love so dearly. And Matt, Nick, and Jamie will forever be the guys he found his success with. Even if he starts over, forms a new band or tries alone, those guys will be there. Ghosts on any stage he’ll step on in the future. Like haunting memories, they’ll remind him of what he gave up. He’ll never be able to shake them off. You know him. Better than I do, no doubt. He can’t let go of things, can he? Didn’t he hang on to a silly little argument that the two of you had over a decade ago? As strangers? How long do you imagine will he need to get over the end of his band?”

He never would, knew Miles.

“Alex needs his band. And his band needs Alex.”

“What’s that got to do with me? Want me to bring them back together?”

“I want you to exit the picture.”

Miles froze. “Excuse me?”

“As long as you’re there, Alex won’t return. He’ll cling to you. He’ll pretend he’s got everything he needs. But we both know that’s not true. You’ve got your career and he’s lost his. Take a trip down the future with me. How long, do you think, will it take until his feelings will change? Years, months, merely weeks? When you’re off to play festivals, will he stand by the sidelines, cheering you on? Or will he reminisce about the past and long for his own adventures? Will he be okay watching his old bandmates move on without him, playing the songs that don’t belong to him, but to the label and the group? Will he kiss you goodbye and tell you to play a great set while staying behind at home to bake cookies and drink wine?”

“I’m not the one keeping him from returning.”

“Am I? I’ve been their manager for years. What changed now? I’ve always been who I am. I’m no more evil or mean or overstepping than I’ve always been. But what changed between you and Alex? He cares for your opinion. You’re wild and adventurous. And so is he. You take leaps and do what you want. He wants to do the same. But you’re on your own. He’s got a band. Equal partners. You change course, so be it. He changes course, he needs to ask for permission. And until recently, he had no problem with that.”

“If you’re accusing me of being the reason they’re having problems—”

“No. I’m not. But you’ve made it that much easier for him to jump ship. You’ve tossed him a buoy and he abandoned his brothers. Let’s take a trip down a different future. Let’s say he and the band, for some reason or other, actually get over their differences. Everything would be perfect, right? It’d be just like this tour. Funny. Exciting. Full of laughter. Friends and love and happiness.”

It’d be that. Yes.

She unlocked her phone. Got up. Handed it to him. “Screenshots of some tweets. Hashtag Milex. See that? ‘Faggot Turner and his boy-toy. So disgusted! Never buying another album!’ Harsh, I admit. Assholes everywhere, right? If only it were just a few.”

She scrolled through dozens more. Miles swallowed hard. He didn’t care what they said about him. But he felt awful about the words they had for Alex. The tweets had mostly been made during their stay in Russia when he and Alex had been stupid and behaved recklessly.

“Look at this.” She showed him a website. “The band’s website. The message board. Old fashioned, I admit. But some still use it. Half a dozen threads about you and him. Calls for boycotts. Ideas for banners that make fun of him. Alex says he doesn’t want to be in the papers for his private life. Imagine the two of you going public. Two gay rock stars. They’d report little else. It would definitely drown out any serious reporting on their music. He kicked out a reporter for asking an innocent question about his friendship with you. Can you imagine what he’d do when all reporters will be asking about is his sex life? How much, you assume, will his bandmates want to endure before taking offense?”

Nausea overcame him. His stomach churned and twisted, and he felt himself getting sick. Wasn’t this what he’d feared from the very beginning? When he’d told Alex, months ago, that they’d burn too bright and rival the sun, wasn’t this what he’d had in mind? That they’d become a spectacle? That they would be too big and too explosive to stand a chance in real life?

His eyes fell shut and he forced his breaths to come out steadily. He’d never meant to be in the way of his friends’ success. And she did have a point, hard as it was for him to admit. Nobody would care about their music anymore. It’d be a circus show starring Milex!

All of it. All that she said.

God, he hated her. He hated her with a passion! But she was right. Alex would never survive without music and he and the band – they belonged together! He wanted them together! They were family!

“You see my point, I presume.”

“Fuck you.”

“Call me worse if it helps. But I don’t hear you denying any of what I said. You and Alex…you had your fun, your little romance. But it’s time for you to step out of this dream of yours and face the facts. Music is a tough business. It’s not meant for hearts and flutters. And let’s be real. You and him, you would have never lasted anyway. You’re too different. Or alike. Maybe a bit of both. Sooner or later, you’d have gone for each other’s throats! I’m merely saving you the time in between. You know what you have to do, right? Before it’s too late.”

Miles turned around, supported his weight on his hands and arms as he leaned over the desk. He felt dizzy, suddenly. Floating on unsteady waters. As if someone had pulled the floor from beneath his feet, without warning.

“He and I…” he croaked, struggling for words when he didn’t even know what he wanted to say. What was left to say?

“Something else, now that I’ve got you here.” She handed him a small slip with a number. “The Monkey’s label wants to have a chat with you. They’re very impressed with you and your music and where it’s headed. They’d like a chat to discuss a possible future. You’ve earned it. Think it through. I could be your manager as well. Or not,” she added, a knowing smile on her face. “Whatever you prefer. But should you choose to work with me, provided you break up with Alex, of course, else there’d be little left of your career, I can promise you that you’ll be headlining festivals in no time.”

“I don’t think you heard me the first time,” he said coldly. “Fuck you.” With that, he walked out.

-

Popping the collar of his jacket up, Miles wished he’d taken his puffed coat instead of the damned leather jacket. He was freezing. It wasn’t even that cold outside, but every drop of blood in his veins felt half a degree away from turning to crimson ice. He stepped into the lobby of the hotel and only now realized that he’d forgotten his lunch with Alex. He didn’t know if he should go and face him, or hide in his room. What would he say if he stood in front of him? He was in no shape to form a clear thought. Nothing made sense anymore.

This morning, just a few hours ago, he’d been the happiest he’d ever been. And now? He felt lost at sea, unable to spot the horizon and blinded by the harsh light of the truth, which kept him from finding the shore he craved to reach.

Head down, eyes to the floor, he shuffled towards the elevators.

Somebody bumped into him. “Shit, sorry!”

“’Tis alright—” he mumbled.

“Miles?”

He looked up, barely paying attention. “Huh? Oh, Jamie. Hey.”

“Are you alright?”

No, he wanted to say. But then he’d have to elaborate and explain and – as he met Jamie’s eyes, he saw the same turmoil he feared was filling his own ones. “Are you?”

“Alex and I…we got into this huge fight just now.”

Alex. His Alex. His wonderful, amazing, kind, sweet, warm, perfect Alex. If he’d gotten into a fight with Jamie, then he likely needed him right now. Alex tended to pretend that these things didn’t get to him, but they did. And even though it was a tough job at times to get him to talk and open up, once he finally began to open his heart, Alex showed an unbelievable depth of emotions. He was much more vulnerable than the world believed.

“We’re friends, you and I.” Jamie stepped into the elevator with him, pressed his back against the wall and let his head roll back. “I said something to Alex and he’ll no doubt tell you. You should probably hear it from me.”

“Hear what,” asked Miles, not at all interested, truth to be said.

Jamie sighed. Exasperated. “Stupid thing, really. Came out wrong, too. He asked me what I would have said if he’d told me about you and him. Told him I’d have warned him. Told him that he’d risk too much—”

“What?”

“If it had gotten out and…I mean, I know you two are serious. He told me – he said that he—”

“You told me I should have trusted you. Because we’re friends. I should have told you about me and him.”

“Yes!”

“And now you’re telling me you…” There was that dizziness again. “Like, what? That it’s bad? We shouldn’t be together?”

“No! Fuck, that’s exactly what happened with Alex. I’m saying you and Alex, together, are a big fucking thing. And it’s gonna cost you something when it gets out! All I said was that I’d have warned him about that!”

Jamie believed it, too, then. That the Monkeys fans wouldn’t like their favorite frontman to be gay. He, too, then, feared that they’d lose fans. Maybe even money. It was all about business, in the end. It wasn’t a world meant for feelings.

Jamie went on. “I love you, man! I want you to be happy. And, of course, I want Alex to be happy.”

“Just not happy together?” asked Miles.

“No, fuck! Don’t put words in my mouth!”

“I’m not.” He leaned against the other wall. Had they reached their floor yet? Had somebody even pressed the button? Miles felt his legs giving out and he clung to the handrail. “I’m trying to understand what you’re saying.”

“You two risk a whole damn lot by being together is what I’m saying. And I tried to tell Alex the same. I merely meant to express to him that it’d be reckless and stupid to risk all that for sex. If that’s what it’s all about. Unless it’s worth it, it’d be dumb to do it.”

A faint nod from Miles. Just as Marianne had said. They’d enjoyed their little romance. They’d gotten their fun. But it was time to get real. And in the end, it was all about what remained on the bottom line. Love had no space, there.

“I want my band back, Miles.” Jamie looked down, then met his eyes. He sounded torn and defeated. Tired. “I want it to be the way it used to be. I want us to have fun and laugh and I want things to be easy.”

It would never be that if Miles and Alex remained together. The Monkeys would never stand a chance for a reunion. Alex and Jamie would never rekindle their friendship. Alex would lose the rest of the band as friends. And they were more than just his friends. They were his family. Miles would never be able to forgive himself for costing him his family.

He clung harder to the handrail as it became obvious what he had to do.

“Let’s talk later. We’re good, right? We will talk later? At the gig tonight?” The doors chimed open and Jamie pushed away from the wall. “Miles?”

“Later,” he said, quickly.

But not now.

Not now.

**Present Day**

**Vienna**

“Miles Kane.”

He looked up from his drink, squinted, tried to sharpen his vision. He’d lost count on the number of drinks he’d had. It had to have been a few. The world no longer existed in sharp contrast, but it flickered in blurry lines. He’d definitely had a lot, then!

Hadn’t somebody said his name out loud? Glancing to his side, holding onto the bar, worried he might fall off the stool otherwise, he found a pretty brunette there. She looked familiar. Someone he might have known in a previous life.

“I swear to God,” said the woman, her gaze sharp, “if you forgot my name, I’ll bloody your nose!”

He blinked. “I’m pretty drunk.”

“Anna. You asshole. We used to date. We fucking used to live together!”

“Oh. Yes. I had a feelin’ I knew you.”

A snort. “Drunk doesn’t begin to describe what you are.”

“Didn’t you leave me?”

“Roughly ten years ago. Yes. But we saw each other since then. We met a few years ago, in Los Angeles.”

Miles sent his mind down memory lane. “The guitar. Yes. I remember.” His gaze wandered back to his drink. It was empty. He then searched out the bartender. “’nother one.”

The bartender briefly hesitated, until Miles fished out a big note of cash. “It could be yours if you do your job.”

A new drink appeared in front of him.

“One for me as well,” said Anna. “What guitar? Are you sure you’re remembering this right?”

“Don’t you know?” His lips attached to the glass and he drank the liquor quickly, afraid it’d disappear if he didn’t. Then he put the glass away. “Black and white Gretsch. 1957. Beautiful instrument. Really knows how to pick ‘em. And the lyrics…he always had a way with the words. The way his lips move when he sings. He’s got a tiny little Elvis sneer. If you point it out to him, he’ll take offense! But it’s really cute.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re Miles Kane. Certain, almost.” Anna leaned closer, inspecting him with big, quizzical eyes. “You look like him. You smell like him. You drink like him! But you’re speaking complete and utter nonsense. When we met in LA, you bolted after I suggested a booty call for old times’ sake. There was nobody with a black and white guitar! Least of all, Elvis!”

“I’m not interested in sex with you.”

“I’m not offering! I’m married!”

“Like that ever stopped you.”

She snapped her fingers. “There you are!”

“What are you doing here?”

“My husband had to be here. Business dealings. You?”

“Concert.”

“Right. I heard. You’re touring with the Monkeys. How are Jamie and the others.”

“Fine.” He had no idea, actually. He didn’t really care, either. He didn’t want to know. He wanted to forget and pretend that nothing else mattered. He didn’t quite succeed, though. “Jamie is married. Beautiful wife. Kind and smart and funny.”

“Trying to tell me something?”

It was his turn to snort.

“Look, I know I was kind of a bitch to you when we broke up, but a lifetime has passed. I forgave you a long time ago.”

“For what,” he asked indignantly, momentarily forgetting that life was a bitch and that he’d been determined to spend the evening pitying himself and getting drunk. “What did I do to you?”

“You let me know, any chance you had, that music was your life and that I’d never measure up to it. I’d always be number two.”

“I loved you!”

“Yes. And I loved you. I really did. But I had plans for my life. You might not have liked them. Maybe you were disgusted by them. I don’t care. I’ve always wanted a life that was easy. I wanted money and adventure and fun. And you wanted music. You weren’t willing to give up your dream. So, don’t hold it against me that I refused to give up mine.”

Had he also been selfish? Shit, what did it matter now!

“I didn’t make a move on Jamie because he was more famous or had more money than you. Matt accused me of that. I guess you think I did that, then. Jamie made a move on me.”

Miles stared at her, incredulous. “He was with Katie, then! He’d have never done that!”

“Why?” She raised a perfectly arched brow. “Because men are inherently good and pretty brunettes are always untrustworthy? Trust me, he made a move on me. Bought me a drink that night. Asked me to dance. I felt his hands on my ass! He was rich and famous. I’m not too proud to admit that. I was flattered. And you and I had broken up at that point. Not for long, but we had. Katie saw us, one word led to another and because I was an easy target, the story was written as it’s being told today. But he was your friend. And I would have never slept with him! There were plenty of other rich guys available. Believe me or not. Makes no difference to me. I’ve got nothing to gain from telling you. I’m married and you’re into Elvis, apparently.” She rolled her eyes with lingering disbelief.

Miles chuckled despite himself. Elvis. Alex would kill him if he’d call him that!

Alex.

He’d never get to call him that.

He wasn’t his to call anything, anymore.

“Let’s have one more drink and then you should call it a night. You look like you're about to drop to the floor! Tell me about Elvis. I’m curious.”

“Elvis,” Miles sighed, “has permanently left the building.”

“Worst joke ever.”

“No shit.”

“Elvis is a guy,” she remarked.

“You don’t know? I’m gay now.”

“That’s a shame.” She circled the rim of her glass with the tip of her crimson fingernail, tossed him a grin and winked. “I thought after I divorce my current husband and wait for the second one to come around, you and I might take a tumble in sheets.”

“Uh…”

Laughter from her. “Tsk, so cute! Kidding, Miles! Come on, tell me about your life. Where has Elvis gone to? And are you sure it’s permanent? You know what they say. Elvis will never truly go away!”

“Elvis and I aren’t meant to be. We had our moment. And then it became obvious that life doesn’t want us. Our friends think we’d be dumb to risk anything for this. He’d lose too many fans. His band could lose money. And Elvis…sooner or later, I’m afraid, he’ll blame me for it. I could never ask that of him. To give anything up for me…”

“Wow.” She rolled her eyes with theatrical flair. “Ten years later and still think that way?”

“What way?”

“That you’re unworthy or some shit like that! You said it when we broke up!”

“When you broke up with me,” he reminded her testily.

“Details. Who cares! The point remains. It’s not like that, Miles. It was never like that. It was never about being good enough. Or rich enough. Or famous enough. You and I wanted different things from life. And that’s why we didn’t work out. How are the odds that Elvis is Alex?”

“What? Why?”

She eyed him pointedly. “I had a hunch. Like, ten years ago. Even when we were together, I had to drag you away from him! Nobody is that eager to fight!”

Miles didn’t say anything. He sipped more alcohol.

Anna smiled softly as she patted his arm. “What makes you think he’d lose anything by being with you? Did it ever occur to you that he might gain something by being with you?”

“Yeah. Drama and trouble and problems and…” He shook his head. Turned to the bartender. “More.”

She plucked out a credit card. “No more. Night’s on me. Come on, let me shove you into the elevator. Time for sleep.”

“I forgot my room number.”

More laughter. “We’ll figure it out.”

.

.

**Spoiler Chapter 27 (which will be told from Jamie's perspective)**

#

Katie came to a halt. Turned, faced him. “Jamie…I know you’re sorry that you’ve made me mad. But you’re not sorry for how you've made me mad. You’re not sorry for what you’ve said and how you’ve said it.”

“What the hell did I say anyway?”

“You used to defend him. You used to be his big brother. His protector. You stood up for him and threatened everybody that dared to look at him in the wrong way. You were his biggest fan and his greatest ally. He is suffering right now. He lost the band, his life is upside down, all of you have abandoned him and now Miles left him, too. You should be in his room right now, offering a hug and beer!”

“He’s had enough beer already.”

#

“You’re my friend. I’m not sure I’ve done a good job of letting you know.” 

A vague smile flashed briefly over Miles’ face. But it faded fast. “Did you make a move on Anna ten years ago? After we broke up?” 

The whiskey hitched in his throat and Jamie coughed hard. 

Miles’ eyes were firmly on him. 

Jamie closed his own, unable to meet his. 

“You did, then,” concluded Miles. 

#


	27. The Good Old And The Bad New

**Present Day**

** Vienna  **

** Jamie  **

Raindrops pooled in little puddles on the historically old marble floor and Jamie felt bad for the cleaning lady, who dutifully hovered in the corner, trying her hardest to remain out of sight, until the guests, in this case the Monkeys, Miles’ band mates and a few people from management would have all checked in. Usually, check-ins were performed by one of their tour manager’s assistants but there had been some delays and mishaps and a bit of chaos. Now, they all huddled in the grand foyer, surrounded by rich tapestry, old décor and luxurious furniture, while wearing muddy boots, leather jackets and carrying way too many guitars. It was an odd sight, not meant to be. Two worlds colliding. 

Katie, standing next to him, nudged his arm. “This would be perfect for their great reunion! So picturesque! It’d make for a phenomenal photo moment, too. Ah, look at the grand staircase! I can already imagine Miles, striding down, spotting Alex, and just…you know…diving for the big, happy kiss!” 

“Would you stop?” He shook his head with a heavy and tired sigh. “Bloody look at him!” Alex leaned against the receptionist’s desk, barely clinging to life, trying his hardest to sign his name on a sheet of paper. “He’s a mess. He reeks of liquor and smoke and—” 

“’Cause he’s heartbroken. He needs Miles!” 

“He needs an intervention!” 

“Jamie!” 

“What?” 

She gave him that look. That disapproving and slow shake of her head that let him know just how low her opinion of him had sunken. As though he was the very dirt beneath her feet. He couldn’t blame her. He knew sounded mean and cold and heartless. But he wasn’t. He was just so fucking tired of her constant gushes about Miles and Alex’s epic love and their beautiful relationship. 

There was nothing beautiful about the sight in front of him. 

All he saw was the shadow of a man who’d once been his best friend. All he saw was a miserably sad guy and the pitfalls of selfishness. He could have warned him if Alex had let him. He could have told him that this was how it would end. He shouldn’t have had to warn him in the first place. Alex should have been able to read the signs, to see the proverbial writing in the sky. He and Miles had fought for years. What could possibly have made them believe that this strikingly stupid idea of theirs to fuck would end up well? And Alex, flighty and constantly searching for inspiration, had fallen headfirst in love with the idea of it all. To love a man. All for a new song. All for a new adventure. For a new experience. 

“Stop staring at me,” groveled Alex as he passed him, keycard in hand. 

Jamie stepped aside to made room for him and his guitar. Did he even have a bag with him? He couldn’t see one. “Where’s your suitcase? Your clothes?” 

“The fuck do you care?” 

“Alex—” 

“Fuck off.” 

They never used to speak that way with each other. Now it seemed to be the only language they were capable of. “Whatever.” 

As Alex trudged up the staircase, Jamie turned back to the reception, where Katie was already busy filling out the sheet of paper. In no time, she had their keys. Instead of saying a word to him, or acknowledging him in any way, she walked by wordlessly, grabbed her bag and headed for the stairs as well. He followed mutely. 

“Any word from Miles?” he asked. 

“No.” Her reply was clipped. Short and sharp. 

“Are you mad at me?” 

“The fact that you have to ask worries me greatly.” 

A joke. He considered that a good thing. It meant he wouldn’t have to sleep on the couch. He’d be allowed in the bed. He’d have to make do with a very small edge of the mattress, but he’d take what he could get. “I’m sorry. You know that, right?” 

Katie came to a halt. Turned, faced him. “Jamie…I know you’re sorry that you’ve made me mad. But you’re not sorry for how you’ve made me mad. You’re not sorry for what you’ve said and how you’ve said it.” 

“What the hell did I say anyway?” 

“You used to defend him. You used to be his big brother. His protector. You stood up for him and threatened everybody that dared to look at him the wrong way. You were his biggest fan and his greatest ally. He is suffering right now. He lost the band, his life is upside down, all of you have abandoned him and now Miles left him, too. You should be in his room right now, offering a hug and beer!” 

“He’s got enough beer already.” 

“See?” 

“See what? He didn’t lose the band, he walked out on us! He quit us! Not the other way around. We were there. We all tried our best to make it work. We even agreed to work with a fucking songwriter to take the pressure off him! Did he thank us for that? No. He just left! Not even a discussion. No hard feelings. No regret. He walked out, took Miles with him, and had the fucking time of his life while we sat there, lost and rejected!” 

“You ambushed him with the songwriter! How the hell would you feel if Alex told you he hired a second guitarist ‘cause you’re not delivering anymore?” 

“That wasn’t why we did it!” 

“Did you say that? Did you explain it to him?” 

“Do you have any idea how hard I tried to talk to him?” 

“No, Jamie, I don’t. Have you tried that hard to talk or did you just try to get your point across?” 

“That’s uncalled for.” 

“So is your attempt to sell yourself as the victim in this.” 

“Meaning what?” 

“Marianne left a message for you. In Berlin. At the reception. The guy manning the desk didn’t think anything of it, I assume, when he handed me the note. It said, ‘Good idea. I’ll make it happen. Alex will be back in no time.’ I didn’t think any of it at the time. But I’m wondering now, given all that has happened, what did you suggest? What did she make happen?” 

He briskly marched passed her, to their door, and opened it. “I don’t like that tone in your voice.” 

“Fucking deal with it,” she snapped, catching up with him. 

He tossed his bag into the nearest corner and then dropped down on the couch, spreading out. His bones felt heavy, his limbs weighed him down and his head began to ache. He hadn’t done anything that deserved her disdain. He’d only tried to help. He’d tried to save his band, for crying out loud! “I asked her to talk to Miles. I asked her to make him see that Alex needs us and we need him! Nothing wrong with that.” 

“Why do you need her for that? You and Miles are friends!” 

“Because he’s my friend, maybe, and Alex is, or was, my friend. Whatever! And they’re bloody fucking now! Miles made it abundantly clear that he won’t involve himself in band business. I thought if she talked to him, it might make a difference! It’s a fucking mess, alright? It used to be so easy. There was the band. There was Miles. Miles and Alex fought. Clear lines. No drama. Or, at least, the drama was contained. Now it’s fucking ruined. Everything is! I lost my band, too, you know? And two of my best friends, it appears. I don’t see you offering me a hug and a beer either.” He got up, kicked his shoes off and climbed onto the bed. “I need sleep!” 

\- 

Jamie wiped his hand across his face. He clung to a half-empty bottle of water with his other hand, rested his weight on his arms, which he’d propped up on his legs as he sat on a chair in the backstage area. His attention lingered on Alex. He was the equivalent of a car crash. You weren’t supposed to look at the carnage, out of respect for the victims, but you also couldn’t look away, because the sight was too graphic to ignore. 

Alex was leaning against the handrail of the steps that led up the stage. As always, these days, his acoustic was in his hand, clutched tightly. His hair was unkempt, maybe unwashed. His torn jeans didn’t look like the expensive designer piece that they were but came across as a part of an assortment of lumps which he was wearing. Even his ridiculously expensive leather jacket looked like an over-worn article from the dark ages. 

Jamie straightened his legs, ready to walk over and offer a few words of kindness. Maybe Alex wanted to talk. But before he got to that, Miles strode down the steps. 

He hadn’t seen him since Berlin. 

Neither had Alex, from the looks of it. But he must have known he was up there. He wasn’t surprised or shocked to see him. “Can we talk?” 

Miles, on the other hand, appeared startled. “Alex…” His eyes were wide. His body frozen in place. “I…uh…no.” He gulped. “Got to go.” 

“Then tell me when and where. You owe me an explanation!” Alex’s voice got louder. Desperate. 

“I can’t. I said everything I had to say.” Miles was anxious to get away, clearly. And he looked away deliberately. His focus jumped from one spot to another. “Let me go. Please, Alex. Please!” 

“I can’t!” 

“You fucking have to,” he blurted out. And then, he all but ran away. 

Passed him. When their eyes met, short that moment was, though, Jamie found Miles’ usually lively and vibrant eyes dark and hollow. Miles looked much like Alex did. Forlorn and lost. Damaged and wounded. He didn’t look at all like this friend. 

“Looks fucking miserable, poor guy,” remarked Matt, appearing next to Jamie. “Wonder why he broke up with Al.” 

“Cause it was just sex and it ran its course.” That’s what he’d gathered from Katie and the few bits of gossip that had landed his way. 

Matt snorted. “Come on, man! You don’t really believe that, do you? Fucking look at them! I’ve had just sex. You don’t look like that when it’s over.” 

“How was it supposed to end? Them parting as friends? They were never friends to begin with!” 

“We were,” said Alex sternly, speaking straight to Jamie, who was staggered by his sudden presence. “For a very short moment in time, he and I were incredible friends. Just friends. We went out, we had fun, we bonded over our past and we apologized for the shit we said to each other over the years. He and I realized that, strange as it may sound, we might have been friends for a lot longer than we realized. He told me he appreciated my ego and my arrogance and all my flaws because they make me who I am, and nobody has ever said that to me before. And I told him that I considered him to be remarkably talented, funny and incredibly sexy. But I fucked up and I never got around to telling him that I loved him for a million other reasons. And now, I must deal with the fact that he doesn’t feel anything remotely similar for me. So, when you wonder from afar, high up that mighty horse of yours, how he and I were supposed to end, let me tell you this: We weren’t supposed to end. Not in my head, at least. But we did. And it fucking hurts!” 

Jamie watched in silence as Alex placed away his acoustic and, instead, placed his earpiece in. It was only now that he realized some stagehand had wired him up already. 

“We have a show to play, tonight. Let’s rehearse. It’s what we’ve always done. No need to slack because my fuck buddy left me. Right, Jamie?” 

“If you want to talk,” supplied Matt, sprinting after Alex, “I’m here. We’re all here.” 

“You’re not,” countered Alex. “Let’s move.” 

\- 

The show had been…well, they had played better ones. 

Alex had messed up the lyrics more than once. He was drunk off his ass and then some. He’d somehow managed to stand upright for the entire ninety minutes of their performance but it had been a close call in the end and they’d never hurried off the stage as fast as they had done tonight. 

He’d fallen asleep in his dressing room afterwards and Katie had volunteered to stay with him and make sure he’d make it back to the hotel safe and sound. 

Jamie didn’t mind. His wife still had those flickers of disdain and disapproval in her eyes and he was growing tired of seeing them. Now he sat in the hotel bar alone, before midnight, on a show night, something he’d never done in all his life. And he wondered when and where the wheels had gone off the rails. If he could pinpoint the exact time, maybe he’d find a solution to all their problems. Or, at the very least, a few explanations. 

Four whiskeys in, still lost, he began to understand that he might not achieve his goal anytime soon. 

Ordering the fifth, glancing around, he spotted Miles hunkering in a booth by himself. He grabbed his glass and went there. “Hey man. How are you?” 

“Is that a joke, or…like, what?” 

“Figure of speech,” muttered Jamie. Everybody was so bloody picky about words, lately. “I know we didn’t part on good terms in Berlin. I said some things that—” 

“You still think Alex and I are a bad idea?” 

Bad idea? “Yes, but…” It was a lot more complicated than two words could sum up! 

“But what? You have your opinion. You have fair points, I guess. Good points.” He shrugged lazily and brought the bottle of beer in front of him to his lips. Drank some. “Doesn’t matter now, does it? It’s all over. You should apologize to Alex. Even if you don’t mean it. He needs his friends right now. He needs his band. He wants to be back. Tell him what he wants to hear and go from there.” 

“Alex is a fucking mess right now.” 

“I’m so sorry. I never meant…” He swallowed hard and drank more. Rubbed his face. “He needs a distraction. He’ll forget about me, soon.” 

Jamie wasn’t so sure about that. Not anymore. Fuck, he had no idea what to think anymore. He’d been shocked to find that they were getting along, he’d been even more shocked to find out, for certain, that they were having an affair! He’d been hurt that Alex was so willing to walk away from everything because of a few misunderstandings with their manager! He’d been confused and irritated about the fact that, somehow, he and Alex had forgotten how to be friends! He’d felt rejected by Alex and replaced by Miles, in a sense. 

And he’d worried, too. Despite it all. 

Worried about the band. Worried about his future. Their future. He’d been worried about Alex and Miles. He cared for them both. He didn’t want them unhappy. But they here they were, unhappy, because they hadn’t been able to think smart. They were both suffering because they had followed their impulses and where had it led them? Why was he the bad guy for being worried? 

“Miles?” 

“Huh?” 

“You’re my friend. I’m not sure I’ve done a good job of letting you know.” 

A vague smile flashed briefly over Miles’ face. But it faded fast. “Did you make a move on Anna ten years ago? After we broke up?” 

The whiskey hitched in his throat and Jamie coughed hard. 

Miles’ eyes were firmly on him. 

Jamie closed his own, unable to meet his. 

“You did, then,” concluded Miles. 

“For what it’s worth,” he spoke after a heavy moment of silence, “I didn’t make a move on Anna. I…didn’t want her. She was just there. She was pretty and…” He felt awful for it. “She could have been anyone.” 

“But she wasn’t.” 

“I know that. Katie and I had gotten into a huge fight that night. We were going through a rough patch, you could say. She wanted me to make up my mind about her and us and I was dragging my feet. I don’t know why…she’s perfect. She’s everything. I was young and stupid. She’d been flirting with some guy that night. Not much, but enough for me to notice. She wanted me to see that she wouldn’t wait around for me. Instead of doing what I was supposed to do, which was admitting to her that I love her, I saw Anna and I flirted with her. She let me flirt with her. It never went past that! I swear, Miles. I wouldn’t have taken it any further than that, because of Katie and because of you. I wouldn’t have done that to either of you! But things got messy that night. Katie saw us. She had it out for Anna because Anna had just broken your heart and then, one thing led to another…” 

“Does Katie now?” 

He nodded. “I wanted to tell you. But a part of me thought, maybe it was better that way. If you thought Anna would move on so fast, I hoped you’d see that you could do better than her. That it was a good thing that things were over.” 

Miles finished his beer, placed the bottle away and leaned back against the plush seats of the booth. He relaxed his head, rested it as his eyes drifted shut. For a while, both men sat in silence. 

Jamie drank more whiskey. His eyes roamed the bar, occasionally stopping to observe a scene that played out in some corner, or he paid special attention to a stray conversation that he caught a whiff of. 

“How could think that it was better that way?” 

Miles’ words pulled him away from his distractions. “What?” 

“You said you hoped I’d see that I could do better. But how would you know? We were friends, yes. And I told you bits and pieces about my relationship. But I didn’t tell you everything. Just like you didn’t tell me everything. I had no idea you and Katie had problems, back then. What if I had seen you make a move on Anna? What if I had gone to Katie, not knowing the whole story, and told her that she’d be better off without you? You both flirted with other people that night, right? Yet here you are, a decade later, happily married. You’re parents. You still love her, don’t you?” 

“Madly,” he assured. 

“So…how can you say you thought you were doing me a favor? You don’t know the whole story. What if you ruined a beautiful relationship without knowing it?” 

He didn’t know how to answer that. “Did I, though?” 

“Anna and I weren’t meant to be. But you didn’t know that. You took it upon yourself to make a judgment like that. You’ve been doing that for a long while.” 

Jamie struggled to reply. 

Miles kept going, calm but cutting clear. “All this time, you’ve acted as though you know what’s best for everyone when you don’t know everything. You told Alex that he needed somebody to reign him in. You told him he needed to act like a professional. Keep his emotions under control. He hasn’t allowed his emotions to get the best of him since the second he found out his ex cheated on him. Do you know that? As his friend, do you? He’s scared of love because he got hurt so badly by it. And what I’ve done to him…” Miles gulped hard. “The worst things he ever did was to drink and to quarrel with me. And occasionally, he lashed out when somebody bit him. Like we all do. Never more than that. He has aced every single show he’s played in his life. He’s written the most incredible songs. He paved the road for your success as a band. And you told him he needed to act like a professional because some shitty writers reported shit about him? Do you want him dead inside?” 

“No…that’s not…” He hadn’t done that. Had he? 

Miles got up, took his empty bottle with him. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not sure you’ve done a good job of being a friend to Alex. Have a nice night.” 

\- 

He hadn’t gotten a minute of sleep last night and had been tempted to knock on Alex’s door as soon as he’d left the bar. But he’ been drunk, then. And unable to speak in coherent sentences. Therefore, he’d laid down, alone in the big, plushy hotel bed, surrounded by a vast variety of Katie’s wardrobe and he’d tucked her nightgown underneath his head, hoping her scent would help him drift off into slumber. 

It hadn’t worked. 

Tired to the core, confused as he’d never been before, and carrying two paper cups of coffee in his hand, Jamie stood in front of Alex’s door and used the tip of his foot to knock. He heard shuffles and noises and then footsteps. The door opened. 

“Fuck, you look like shit.” 

The door moved towards him. 

Jamie acted quickly, placed his foot between, to keep it open. “Let me in, will you? I come in peace. I brought coffee.” 

Alex scratched his unshaved beard. “So?” 

“If you don’t mind, I’d like a moment to talk to you.” He lowered his gaze. “There are some things I’d like to say.” 

“I’m neither in the mood nor in the condition to listen to any more of your insults and whatever else you got for me. I get it, Jamie. You don’t agree with the way I live my life. You’ll only have to tolerate me for three more shows. I’ll try to make it easy for you.” 

“Is that what you think of me?” 

“I don’t have to think anything of you. I know it. You’ve spent years making it clear to me.” Once again, Alex tried to close the door. “I’m tired. Go away.” 

Jamie remained in place. “Makes two of us.” He handed him a coffee. “Please, Alex. Just a few minutes?” 

After a heavy exhale, Alex pulled the door open wide and took the coffee out of Jamie’s hand. Then he walked back into the room, sat down on the couch and sipped on it. “Well?” 

Sitting down next to him, Jamie took in the sight. A shirt hung from the tv. Sheets of paper scattered everywhere. He was writing, obviously, and successfully, too, because they were all intact. Not a single one was tossed or crumpled. “Anything good you’d like to share with us?” He picked up a sheet. 

Immediately, Alex ripped it from his hands. “This is my music, now. My song. You have your songwriter.” 

He leaned back. “Did you know that we only got the songwriter to give you a chance to have more time for yourself? You were killing yourself to come with new material. Nick said you told him you felt useless and that you had doubts about your place in our band. As if you no longer deserved a spot. We thought if somebody else wrote the songs for a while, you could enjoy some free time and stop worrying.” 

“I didn’t know that,” conceded Alex. “You never told me.” 

“You never gave me a chance to tell you. Marianne set it up, suggested a few names. She hated the idea. Said the fans would notice the difference and disapprove. But we told her to do it. She just did her job. She’s not that evil.” 

A snort from Alex. “She’s much worse than that.” 

“I just told you—” 

“That she did her job for once? Does that make up for everything else?” 

“What else?” 

Alex shook his head. “Did you come to tell me that?” 

He didn’t understand his hatred for her. But that was another conversation. One for a different time. “I came…to apologize.” 

“For what?” 

“I’ve been told I was a shitty friend to you. And I spent last night arguing with myself in my head, trying to convince myself that it’s a lie and…” He’d been forced to accept that it was true. He knew very little about Alex’s life. Because he’d been very busy being happy with his wife. He’d been busy trying to be a good dad. He’d been preoccupied with his own life. And he’d forgotten that he’d screwed up a whole fucking lot before Katie had made an honest man out of him. “I’ve done a lot of fucked up shit in my life. You’ve never held it against me. Instead of doing the same, I’ve done the opposite. I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but, I never did it to make you feel bad. I’m sorry for doing that. It was never my intention!” 

“Why did you do it, then?” 

Both stared aimlessly at the window in front of them. Jamie shrugged. “Life with Katie, to me, is the best thing in the world. It makes me happy and it grounds me and all that. I thought if you drank less and stopped caring about reporters – you know, told them what they want to hear – and just became a bit more serious, you’d find that kind of happiness as well. If you stopped spending all that time fighting with Miles, I thought, maybe, you’d have a bit more energy to invest in one of your relationships. I thought I knew what was best for you.” 

“And now?” 

Jamie snorted a laugh. “I’m fucked up, I’ve discovered. I screwed up a lot. I was jealous of you and Miles. All that time you spent together. And then that affair! I thought you’d never get a wife if it came out that you hooked up with him. Not just that. I feared that you’d lose fans, too. There’s all this shit on the internet about you now. How people want to boycott us and whatever. I’ve done a bad job explaining myself. Not just to you. To Miles as well. I was never against the both of you. I just thought you were wasting your time with each other.” 

Alex turned to look at him, finished off his coffee and frowned. “If my relationship with Miles offends them, then those are not the people I want cheering in our crowd anyway.” His shoulders fell, his hand with the cup lowered and he looked down. “Not that there’s a relationship left, I mean.” 

“Don’t give up on us, Alex. I want to be your friend again. And I want you to stay with the band. All of us are the band. We’ll get rid of the songwriter. We’ll take a year off. We’ll figure it out. But don’t leave. Give us a chance to work through this.” 

Alex raised and lowered one shoulder, tiredly. Emotionless. 

“Is that a yes?” 

“Marianne needs to go.” 

Jamie bit his tongue. What the fuck was it with them? “She’s—” 

“Not negotiable.” He placed the coffee cup away. Grabbed a sheet of paper. He read the words absentmindedly. 

“Al—” 

His eyes still on the sheet, Alex squared his shoulders the vaguest bit. “When was the last time Katie walked a red carpet with you?” 

He blinked, confused. What did that have to do with anything? “I don’t know?” When was the last time he had walked a red carpet? “Whatever event we last went to?” 

“Yeah?” 

Well, wait. No. He thought back, tried to remember. He wasn’t really into these things. Shows and that. Cameras. All that nonsense. There had been this awards thing last spring. Katie had come along. “Like April or so? Weren’t we between shows in America?” 

“Did she walk the carpet with you?” 

“She…” No, she didn’t. She’d told him to walk it with Alex. Nick and Matt hadn’t come along. They hadn’t even been nominated for anything. They’d been there ‘cause business and press and all that. One for the label, so to say. She’d met them inside. “Maybe last year?” 

“2015.” 

That couldn’t be true! 

“Like I said, Marianne goes away or I’ll stay away. Close the door on your way out. I’m taking a shower.”

.

. 

**Spoiler Chapter 28**

#

A grin tugged on his lips as he imagined that scene. He could see it all so vividly. And then it was back. That pain. That soul-crushing, breath-stealing, overwhelming pain. As fast as the grin had appeared, it vanished. And when it was gone, it left him in a state of hopelessness. It just wasn’t getting better, was it? 

After a few moments of silence, Pauline spoke up again. “He looks as miserable and as broken as you do. Which, truth to be told, I find silly. I got a feeling if the two of you were together, you’d be happy right now. I told him that and he rolled his eyes at me. But he didn’t deny it. Know what else he didn’t do? Explain it to me.” 

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” 

#

Suddenly the door opened. 

Miles stared at him in complete shock. “What…why are you here?” 

Alex pushed past him. “To get some fucking answers!” 

“Go away,Alex !” 

“No!Not this time!”

Still hovering in the door, Miles kept his eyes away from him. “Get out, hear me?!” 

“Make me,” snapped Alex.

#


	28. It's A Really Deep Hole

28

**October**

**On route to Brussels**

“Are we still friends?” 

Alex looked up from his notebook, pulled the headphones off and raised his brows. He thought he’d heard him correctly, but he wasn’t sure. “What’s that?”

Matt sat down next to him on the small couch on the tour bus. He didn’t ask for space, just took it, forced Alex to pull his feet away to accommodate him. “You and I, are we still friends? You haven’t spoken to me in a while. Jamie told us he apologized to you? That you consider staying with the band?”

“I told Jamie that my staying with the band comes at a price. Nothing is decided, yet.”

“Okay. But, the question remains. You and I, are we still friends?”

“You’re repeating yourself.”

“I am.”

Alex shut the notebook, placed it away. Matt had that determined look on his face that let him know he would keep repeating the question until Alex would supply an answer. So, he said the only thing that he felt certain about. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?” Nick walked in from the back of the bus, book in hand. He gave Alex a strange look. “Wow, you’re sober?”

Rolling his eyes, Alex groaned. “Against my will and not for long. Somebody emptied out all the liquor. Nothing but coffee and water. Strange, right? As if a message of some kind is being delivered, with a failed attempt at subtlety. But rest easy, the next minibar is only half an hour away.”

“You should stay away from it. You were a mess in Vienna and fucking disaster in Amsterdam!” Matt shook his head and scratched the back of it. He appeared to be at a loss. “I get it, okay? What Miles did? It did you in. But it’s time to snap out of it.”

Nick apparently agreed. “Doesn’t take much to get hooked on that shit. And you’ve been drowning yourself in it, lately.”

“If the two of you are trying yourselves at an intervention,” said Alex quietly, “you can stop. I don’t need to drink. I  _ want _ to drink. And I’ll keep doing it, too.” He moved his feet off the couch, placed them on the ground and leaned onto his thighs. A part of him took offense at the accusation. It was one more thing in a long list of things that bothered him. By now, all of it had melted together, into one big, ugly lump and he ought to deal with it but, honestly, he felt too drained to care. “Is there anything else you’d like to accuse me off and or hold against me? Or can I get back to this?” He tapped the notebook. 

“You’re writing, then. That’s good, right?” Nick offered a small smile.

“Yes, that’s very good. It means, should I return, you can all save good money by firing the songwriter.”

Matt let out a sigh. “That’s not what he meant!” 

Alex hardly cared. “No?”

“No,” stated Nick firmly. “And I’d fucking appreciate it if you stopped assuming the worst of us. Didn’t Jamie tell you why we hired him?”

He’d done that. Maybe they’d had good intentions. Alex shrugged. 

“How about you apologize to us, huh?” This from Matt.

Eyes widening, Alex stared at him. “For what?”

“Being a dick. For making it so fucking hard to be your friend!”

“Matt, come on,” said Nick, interfering.

But Matt pressed on. “Somebody has to say it! We’re all here, you know? We all want to help! We get that you’re miserable. But every time one of us reaches out, all you do is snarl some insult or ignore it entirely. You flip us off every chance you get!”

“You accused me of being an alcoholic not even five minutes ago,” bit Alex back. 

“’Cause I’m fucking worried about you! All you do is drink!” 

“It hurts, Matt!” Alex’s voice rose. Why didn’t they understand? “It hurts everywhere!” He gesticulated with his arms, now, trying to get his point across. “Every part of my body is in pain.” He got up, began to pace. Talking about it made it throb harder. Acknowledging it kept him from blocking it out. “I can’t sleep ‘cause I think of him. I can’t not sleep, ‘cause I think of him. I get headaches from my own thoughts! I can’t figure out why he left me. It’s killing me! I don’t know how to make it stop hurting. So I drink until I pass out. I’m just trying to get through this, but it isn’t getting better! Is that what you want to hear? That I’m pathetic and embarrassing myself? There you have it!”

Matt sat in stunned silence and Nick got up, to put a hand on Alex’s shoulder. 

Alex startled at the contact.

Nick kept his hand there. “You really love him. I had no idea.” 

“I mean,” spoke Matt, “we all knew you guys were, like, together, but…”

Alex sank back down onto the couch, deflated. “Yes. I love him.” Wasn’t it funny? When it mattered, he couldn’t get the words out. And now? He wanted to laugh at it all, but he had no energy left for it. “I’m disgustingly, ridiculously, stupidly in love with him. And I don’t know how to turn it off.”

“It’ll get better,” assured Matt.

A snort from Alex. “It’s supposed to, right? I believe it when it happens.”

“Have you asked him why? You probably have. It’s just…Miles seemed really happy with you,” Matt pointed out. 

Yeah. Alex had thought so, too. But, clearly, he’d been wrong. 

Wrapping an arm around him, Matt gave Alex’s shoulder a squeeze. “Jamie explained to us why you didn’t tell him. Is that why you didn’t tell us, either? Did you think we’d ruin it for you?”

Did he think that? Alex tried to remember. “Not ruin, no. All of you, you’re married, and you’ve got kids and you have this other life that I’m not a part of. I mean, it’s not a bad thing! It’s a good thing. It’s supposed to be like that. Miles was mine. I wasn’t hiding it, I think? I was enjoying having him to myself. He was my other life. My place to go home to.”

Jamie strode up to them, leaned against the small table next to the bench Nick sat on and crossed his arms. Alex hadn’t noticed that he’d joined them. “Know what we haven’t done in a while? Let’s have dinner. All of us. Let’s go somewhere and hang out and just talk about old times. Remember those? When we were still young and fresh and full of life?”

“Were you ever that,” ribbed Matt. 

“Says the guy dying his gray hairs,” countered Jamie. 

Alex sat there and listened. The faintest smile was on his lips. He felt vague amusement listening to his bandmates joking around. And he felt reminded of the old days when life was simpler. All those many moons ago, when they’d been kids on a big adventure, free of burdens and problems. He’d like to join them for dinner. He’d like to be that kid again. But he couldn’t do it. Not now. “You go out.” He reached for his notebook. “I appreciate the effort and the offer. I genuinely do. And thank you,” he forced himself to say. He made an effort. They were trying, he understood that. “Thank you for being my friends.”

“Come on, Al. Just dinner,” encouraged Nick. 

He shook his head slowly. “Some other day. Promise.” 

-

Alex felt dead. Empty. Exhausted to the point of fainting. He was at the end. His head didn’t function anymore. His thoughts were nothing but weird ideas and vile curses. For days now, he was suffering from a headache, and not even the strongest alcohol could get rid of it. 

Yesterday, after arriving in Brussels, he’d gone up to his room, had gotten predictably drunk until he’d no longer remembered his own name and then he’d passed out. But it hadn’t lasted for long. Just a few hours. And after that, he’d felt worse than before. And the pain in his head had been unbearable. He’d written down page after page of notes and chords and ideas and he discovered that a broken heart did wonders to his dust-covered inspiration, but if this was the price he’d have to pay to get his sheets filled with music, he’d rather give up on music completely. 

It was an awful feeling. 

To be heartbroken. 

Even crueler, however, was feeling lost. 

He could handle the pain. He could numb the pain. He’d find a way. Maybe he’d even learn to live with it. The questions, though. They kept him wondering. They kept him up at night. They kept his mind in a permanent state of unrest when all he wanted to shut it off completely. 

Alex took a deep breath as he sat on a bench in the small park behind the hotel, taking in the vast trees and serene silence that surrounded him. The air was cold and burning as it filled his lungs. He’d ventured here a while ago. Away from everything and everyone. Just quietness. Maybe he could freeze his mind into surrender. 

“Alex?”

He looked up, over his shoulder. A woman, wrapped in a massive coat and a furry hat was walking up to him and only when she was taking a seat on the bench next to him did he recognize her. “Mrs. Kane?”

“Pauline, sweetheart. What are you doing here, all by yourself? It’s cold and foggy and really no temperature for you to sit in. Aren’t you singers very specific about those things? Like drinking tea before shows and all that?”

A little laugh escaped his throat. “Maybe the real singers. The ones that sing. We rock stars care a lot less for our voices.” He shook his head, bemused. “I’d never bring a guitar out into this weather, though.” 

“Neither would my Miles,” she told him, smiling. “He threw a fit when he moved into his London apartment and the movers brought up the couch before they carried up the sheer insane amount of guitars. It was freezing that day and he all but ran up and down the stairs to get ‘em up and into the warm apartment!” 

A grin tugged on his lips as he imagined that scene. He could see it all so vividly. And then it was back. That pain. That soul-crushing, breath-stealing, overwhelming pain. As fast as the grin had appeared, it vanished. And when it was gone, it left him in a state of hopelessness. It just wasn’t getting better, was it? 

After a few moments of silence, Pauline spoke up again. “He looks as miserable and as broken as you do. Which, truth to be told, I find silly. I got a feeling if the two of you were together, you’d be happy right now. I told him that and he rolled his eyes at me. But he didn’t deny it. Know what else he didn’t do? Explain it to me.”

“Sucks, doesn’t it?”

She blinked, appeared to consider the word, and slowly nodded. “It sucks indeed. His room is a mess. It’s so bad, I wanted to clean it up to save the poor maid the trouble of doing it!”

Mothers, he thought. His would have wanted to do the same, no doubt. 

“I came to visit him. See all of you play your show since I couldn’t stay for it back in Oslo. But he’s rather…un-sociable, at the moment. Figured I’d take a walk. Told him to get it together so we could have a proper talk later. He stopped calling me about a week and a half ago.” She glanced at him now. “I assume that you two ended things around that time?”

“He ended it. I honestly can’t tell you why. I’d give everything to figure it out. But he won’t tell me. He’s ignoring me. Avoids me at all costs. He’s making it obvious that he cared very little about me. If he cared at all,” added Alex. How could he have been so wrong about it all?

Pauline wrapped her arm around his shoulders and squeezed him deftly. It startled him. He wasn’t prepared for a kind gesture, least of all a comforting touch. And as her arm remained wrapped around him, he became aware just how cold it was and how much warmth she offered. 

“My son,” she said, “has been in love with you for as long as I can remember. I should have known all along. But we all turn a blind eye to what is not pointed out to us. Do you know how many girlfriends he had?”

What did it matter? She had it all wrong. “That’s—”

She shook her head, stopped him from speaking further. “Just listen, for a bit. I don’t know the number of his girlfriends. Couldn’t tell you if I wanted to. Most, I only found out about by coincidence, and by then, they were already out of the picture. But I’m keenly aware of every last detail of every fight you and my Miles have ever had. I know more about that silly black guitar that collected dust in the corner of his bedroom for years than I know about my own car. And that, I actually use. He’s spoken repeatedly about your ego and your smugness and he tried to convince me that he couldn’t possibly care less about you. Funny thing, isn’t it? That he couldn’t stop talking about you, then?”

“That just means I got on his nerves,” Alex let her know.

“Oh, Alex. I’ve heard your songs. You’re so good at speaking abstractly. But you’re really bad at hearing the obvious?”

He rolled his eyes. “What am I supposed to hear? That he played me for a fool? That I should have never let my guard down? He knew how hard it was for me to let him in!” He just couldn’t understand it! Alex had thought he and Miles were equal minds. Two of a kind. Lonely and burnt. Desperate for more and yet so scared of it at the same time! He’d believed to know him so well! “He hurt me. How can you say that he loves me when he turned his back on me? He walked away without any word, without any explanation! I’ve begged him for one! I’ve yelled and screamed and cursed at him, and he still won’t speak to me. He knows…” Alex took a deep breath. “He knows how much I need to understand things. So, he not only broke my heart. He’s made it impossible for me to accept it!”

“I might be biased, but I know my son. He would never do such a grave thing if he didn’t have a very good reason for that!” 

“And what reason is that? Tell me! I want to know! Explain to me how he could let me believe that he loved me?” ‘Cause Alex had believed that! “Only to break my heart.” 

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Alex. He didn’t pretend. He loves you!” 

“How can you know? I don’t know what to think anymore!”

Pauline placed her hand on his and held it tight for a moment. “Listen to your heart, my dear.” Then she got up, straightened her coat. “Listen closely. Once you’re done with that, go to him and get your answers. He’s never looked this sad before. I’d like to see him smile again. And he needs you for that.” With that, she walked away. 

Alex leaned back, rested his body on his arms and sighed heavily. Wasn’t that a typical mother thing to say? Listen to your heart! He snorted. As if life’s answers were all there, neatly lined up, waiting to be called upon! His heart was a bloody crime scene. More so, a war zone! A display of desolation and destruction. Debris lined every last inch of the surface and his fears and insecurities ruled the remains with an iron fist.

What would he hear, if he listened to it? He closed his eyes and concentrated. And scoffed when all he heard were beats. Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum. Well. That ought to count for something, at least. He was still alive! Which was a small miracle considering he’d spend the last week and a half drinking nothing but hard liquor and eating only the cold remains of food that had mysteriously made its way into his room. 

Alex opened his eyes again. He looked down at himself and grimaced. He was disgusting, was he not? Unshaved. Unkempt. In dire need of a shower. Or three. His shirt, fancy and expensive, was smelly, to say it kindly. Past savable, he assumed. But it was one of the very few items in his suitcase that Miles had not touched and taken off of him and therefore, he’d worn it a little too often in the past days. 

Yeah. He needed to go shopping. Shopping, then shower, then shaving, then sleeping. And maybe have a glass of water or even some coffee between all that.

-

He tossed the fine silk shirt directly into the trash, alongside his briefs, his jeans, and his socks. He was tempted to toss the boots as well, but they were bloody comfortable and looked really good on stage, with his outfits! So, he kept them. But the rest, he trashed. Maybe he needed that. Draw a line. Make an effort. Fight his way back.

He’d manage to do it once, long ago. And funny enough, it had been Miles who’d stolen the first smile from his lips despite the fact that his wounded and broken heart had still been bleeding.

Miles.

He just couldn’t shake him. He was everywhere. In his head, in his heart, on his skin. Alex’s eyes landed on the paper bag by the foot of the bed. He’d taken a quick trip to the hotel’s boutique after he’d returned from the park. The poor sales girl had probably considered him a beggar or something until he’d pulled out his fancy credit card and given her a short list of things he’d like immediately. Two pairs of jeans. A few shirts. Briefs. A sweatshirt. That ought to do for the weekend. And come Monday, they’d leave for Paris and then he could finally sleep in his own bed again. 

He slipped on underwear and the jeans, only to distort his forehead into deep lines when found that the jeans hung a little loose around his hips. Defeated by the facts, he reached for the phone, ordered room service and conceded that it was time to consume actual food again. Then he put on a shirt, sat down and just paused. Rested. His bones were still tired. He still felt as though he’d reached the end of his capacities.

But Pauline’s words echoed in his head. 

_ Listen to your heart. _

Should he try again? Admittedly, sitting in silence and listening to the sound of one’s heartbeat was oddly calming. And room service had said they’d need a few minutes. What the hell, right? He closed his eyes, took deep and steady breaths and smiled bemusedly when the Da-dum sounds filled his ears again. 

Only, this time, they weren’t the only thing he heard.

He heard Miles, whispering the craziest, corniest, funniest things as he kissed and caressed his neck. Alex squeezed his eyes shut against the images, but he couldn’t fight them even as he tried. Swallowing hard, he felt himself drowning in memories.

Memories of them, holding hands. Memories of kisses and love-making. Memories of long discussions about the most random topics he’d never even cared about, like the origin of the Batman-is-gay rumor or whether or not brown chocolate was healthier than white chocolate. Miles was convinced that brown chocolate was, indeed, healthier but Alex had a hunch that he only believed that ‘cause he didn’t like white chocolate anyway.

As he sat on the edge of the bed, he felt a smile appear on his lips, yet, at the same time, an overwhelming amount of sadness and loneliness fell over him and it all but took his breath away.

**Early October**

**Berlin**

_ Staring at the item in his hand, Alex began to laugh. “What am I supposed to do with that?” He held his jacket with the other hand. He’d been on his way out, to an interview with some local radio station. It was their first day in Germany and he’d have preferred to keep his distance from the band for a little while longer. Too much was between them and he didn’t know how to field questions which referred to a future that he himself knew would not be taking place. _

_ “It’s a stress ball.” _

_ “A what now?” _

_ Miles beamed at him. “You can put it in your pocket. It’s squishy and it feels funny when you squeeze it.” _

_ “I still don’t know why you’re giving it to me.”  _

_ “Because you hate interviews.” Miles leaned in and kissed him slowly as if time wasn’t limited. “Especially now, when everything in your life is so complicated!” He leaned back, but not before snatching another quick kiss. “So, you put the ball in your pocket and whenever you feel like strangling the interviewer or, even, another Monkey, you squeeze the ball instead and just smile politely while you’re at it.” _

_ “That is…” Alex didn’t know what to say. It was silly and ridiculous and possibly the most thoughtful gift he’d ever gotten in life. _

_ “It’s genius,” declared Miles happily, pride in his voice. “I got to go, meeting my band, so—” He gave Alex another deep and fierce kiss. “Squeeze ‘em dead, babe! See you when you get back!” He spun around, headed for the door and paused, tossing a cheeky smile over his shoulder. “Would you like to go out tonight? Dinner, maybe? I’ll get us a table somewhere.”  _

_ A bit dazed, Alex looked up from the little ball and nodded jerkily. What was it about this little gesture that had undone him so entirely? “Yes, dinner. Okay.”  _

_ Miles frowned. “Are you alright?” _

_ “Yeah, yes. It’s…” And then it hit him. Like a fucking wrecking ball, it hit him squarely in the center of his heart. He loved him. And not just a little. That, he had assumed for a while now. No. He loved him really, really much. A whole damn fucking lot! Unable to say any of it, though, because the word was too big to process and even bigger to speak out loud, Alex marched up to him, dropped ball and jacket, grabbed Miles’ face and kissed him so deeply that he couldn’t say where he ended and Miles began.  _

_ He kissed his lips, the upper one and the lower one, then both at the same time. He licked and teased and nipped and smiled and moaned and sank entirely when Miles’ arms wrapped around him to hold him impossibly tight.  _

_ It wasn’t until he felt painfully stripped of oxygen that he let go the smallest bit to inhale sharply.  _

_ Miles pressed his forehead against his, bumped their noses together, and moaned softly. “That was quite the kiss.”  _

_ “Sorry—” _

_ “Oh no! No, no! Never ever apologize for that kind of kiss!” Miles immediately placed another one on his mouth. He kept him close. “Are you nervous? Is that it? You don’t want to do the interview, right?” _

_ The what? Oh. Alex had already forgotten about that. He shrugged, though. Miles had a point. “No, I don’t.” _

_ “Shall I write you a note? A sick note? Dear Interviewer, Alex Turner couldn’t show up today because he had a more urgent matter to attend to. His boyfriend needed sex. Regards, His Boyfriend!” Miles laughed. “How’s that? Will it do?” _

_ I love you. I love you. I love you. _

_ God, Alex wanted to say it so badly. But the damn words just wouldn’t come out.  _

_ “You’ll do amazing, babe! And if you call him a dick and get into a fight with the band, then so be it. What’s the worst thing that can happen? You’re jobless anyway,” joked Miles.  _

_ At that, Alex snorted. He slipped back into Miles’ arms and breathed him in. “I’m weird today. Don’t worry. All’s good.” He kissed his neck and leaned back. “Thank you for everything. For the weird ball and the pep talk.” _

_ “Any time.” Another kiss. “I’ll be here when you get back. I promise.”  _

__

**Present Day**

**Brussels**

And Miles had been there. He’d reserved a table at the strangest restaurant Alex had ever been to. Dinner had lasted three hours. And it had come with live music, a local theatre performance, weird accents, and infinite fun. Miles had tried to take his mind off the day, as he’d done almost every night after he’d fallen out with the other Monkeys. 

He always did that. He’d always looked out for him. Miles had looked out for him by being annoyingly reluctant to do anything in public. He’d done the silliest things to make him smile. He’d held him as nobody had ever held him before. Like Alex was some kind of miracle and Miles had found him and couldn’t believe his luck. 

Alex had never experienced anything even remotely similar before. For a while, he’d been Miles’ favorite person in the world and being that to somebody…that did things! 

Alex tore his eyes wide open. His heart felt different than his head. He suddenly realized. His heart had no doubt that Miles’ feelings had been genuine. 

But why, then? Fucking why was Miles all the way across the hotel, by himself, alone? If he loved him, he could be here, in Alex’s arms, and they could be together. Instead of being alone, separate and miserable, they could be happy, together! 

Why?

If Miles loved him, why wasn’t he here?

Alex grabbed his key and all but ran out of his room. He sprinted through the long and dimly lit corridor, past endless rows of doors and big, gaudy plants, until he reached the far end of it. A bit breathless, but restless and wired and completely lost, he knocked hard on Miles’ door. 

What time was it anyway? Was it night already? Was it still day? What did it matter! He knocked again, hard and relentless. He was tempted to shout his name, to call out for him, but that would let Miles know who was on this side of the door and it’d likely make him not open the door at all. He kept knocking.

He had a plan, now! 

Alex had never told him how he felt. It was time to change that. If Miles wanted to walk away from it all, then he’d have to do it the hard way! He’d have to do it knowing he’d break Alex’s heart! He’d have to look him in the eye and watch as it would fall to shreds. Alex knocked even harder on his door, finding himself stronger than he’d felt in days. 

A minute passed. Maybe two. His knuckles were turning red. “Come on,” muttered Alex. “Please!”

Suddenly the door opened. 

Miles stared at him in complete shock. “What…why are you here?”

Alex pushed past him. “To get some fucking answers!” 

“Go away, Alex!”

“No! Not this time!” 

Still hovering in the door, Miles kept his eyes away from him. “Get out, hear me?!”

“Make me,” snapped Alex, spinning around to face him. His eyes were hard and determined. His voice was steady and strong. 

Miles slammed the door shut. “Make it quick!”

A snort. Oh, he had time! He had all the time in the world! He was here for answers and Miles would have to deliver! “Why did you break up with me?”

It was Miles’ turn to brush past him. He walked across the room, to the other side of it, where the large sliding glass door to the balcony was. He stared out of it, still avoiding Alex’s eyes. “I told you. We weren’t meant to be. It was sex. It’s over now.”

“It wasn’t sex when you kissed me. It wasn’t sex when held me.” Alex remained in his spot, staring at Miles’ back. “It wasn’t fucking sex when you made me gifts and told me I made you happy. Fucking try again and tell me the truth!” 

“Sex with extras, then! I don’t care how you call it! It’s over, Alex! Go away!” 

“Look at me!”

“Get the fuck out of this room!” 

He wouldn’t look at him. Alex steeled himself. He’d have to do it like this, then. In the most unromantic, fucked up way imaginable. “I love you.” Miles remained frozen in place. Alex scoffed. But he kept going. “What did you expect? I never stood a chance not to fall for you! Your beautiful, warm and kind eyes made me tumble into it. Your sweet and soft lips reeled me in. Your strong hands tied me down. And your heart pulled mine under. I love you, Miles. I’ve been meaning to tell you for so long! But the words…they were so big and I couldn’t get them out!” 

Suddenly, Alex saw it. Miles wasn’t just standing there, by the window, making a point of looking away from him. His wide shoulders were rigid and tense and his hand was pressed to the glass, knuckles white and strained. 

He took a step towards him. “Look at me, Miles.”

“Alex…” His voice was hoarse and thick and strained. “Go away. Please!”

“No.”

“I don’t love you.”

He no longer believed that. Not when he could hear the tears as they filled Miles’ eyes. “I can’t. I know that you love me! My heart knew long before my head caught up. But I know, now!”

“I don’t! I fucking don’t! I want you to get out.” His body was shaking. “I want you to get out of this room, out of my life! I want—”

“Tell me to my face!” Alex took another step closer. He was desperate to look at him and mad that Miles refused to. His voice rose. “Tell me to my face that you don’t love me and I’ll go.” Another step. “Fucking tell me to my face that you want me gone and I’ll never return! Fucking tell me, Miles. Look at me! You think this is easy for me? Fucking say it to my face! Say that you don’t love me and fucking make me believe it!” He grabbed his shoulder hard, put all of his muscles into it, spun him around. “Say you don’t love me!” 

It happened all so fast. 

Alex looked into his eyes. He saw the tears, the pain. And then Miles was kissing him. He lips bruised his as they clung to each other for bare survival. “You can’t,” he whispered, between clumsy, messy kisses. “You can’t say it!” 

Miles kissed him harder. 

And then, nothing mattered anymore! They were tearing at each other’s clothes, feasting on each other’s lips. They were groping and moaning and there might have a stray tear or two in between as well. Alex tugged on Miles’ shirt, pulled him to the bed with him and in the very far and vastly distant part of his head that still functioned he found it vaguely amusing that, once again, they were doing it in Miles’ room. A smile grew on his face. With each article of clothing that fell to the ground, his temperature rose and his power and his strength began to return to him. 

“Yes…yes, babe!” Miles was placing deep, succulent kisses to his neck and his throat and shoulder, then lower. Alex gasped for air and felt his lungs expanding to full capacity after days of shallow breaths and limited supplies. His hands dug into Miles’ back, leaving marks, letting him know that he was his and he would remain his. “Kiss me!” 

Miles did. With abandon. And Alex tasted Miles’ soul on his lips. 

“You love me,” he hushed. Kissed him back with matching conviction. “You don’t have to tell me. I know that you do.” 

After that, they stopped speaking. It was a wild and sweaty act. Far removed from the perfected fucks of the past. This was almost comical, in a sense. Two people desperate to be joined, too desperate. They fumbled and giggled and kissed and got lost in kisses, only to remember that there was more and, then, when they somehow managed to get it done, they stopped and just stared at each other longingly. It was only towards the end, near their greatly desired releases, that they recalled how to do it properly. Alex buried himself deeply into Miles, reached all the way around him as he raised his body off the bed and he kept him securely against him, unwilling to let go even a little bit. Not when it had taken this long to have him in his arms again. 

Miles reached behind him, raised his arm, curled it around Alex’s neck and held onto him. Alex kissed his neck, licked it, bit down, kissed him more. Wave after wave of pleasure overcame him and he almost passed out. Miles came with him, calling out Alex’s name as he did. And then they fell forward, collapsed onto the bed and still couldn’t let go of each other. 

Pulling out at long last, Alex curled his entire body, every last inch of his front, against the back of Miles. He pushed his face into the curve of his shoulder, breathed him in and found the most delicious peace as his scent filled his nostrils. Then he reached for the sheet, covered the both of them, and drifted off into a resting slumber. 

.

.

**Spoiler Chapter 29**

#

Alex’s knuckles were white as he clutched the door’s handle. He was on the cusp of storming out, of telling that woman what, precisely, she could do with herself, but Jamie held him back. 

“Wait,” he hissed.

#

“I think I said we’d lose friends and that it wouldn’t be worth it.” Alex cursed vilely. Jamie looked away. “I told you I didn’t listen properly when I should have!”

“No shit, Jamie!” 

“There’s more,” he admitted guiltily. 

Alex glared harshly now. “What more?”

“I sent Marianne to him.”

“You did fucking what?”

#


	29. Say Goodbye To Us

The sun had settled and by the time Alex woke up, the room was dark. He purred and stretched and felt better rested than he’d for weeks. Turned to his side, facing the windows, he saw the black night as it held court for all the stars in the sky. The full moon was hiding behind a stray cloud and only did he become conscious of the fact that their hotel wasn’t the type of towering cement monstrosity that it usually was. It was of the smaller variety and, therefore, their rooms were closer to the ground. Their windows were on par with neighboring ones. If he were to switch the light on, somebody might have a direct view into their room and be able to see what took place inside. A naughty thought settled in Alex’s head and he turned around, to share it with Miles. 

Who, Alex discovered, was no longer there.

Fuck onlookers, he decided, switched the lights on quickly and took a keen look around the room. Miles’ clothes had disappeared. His jeans weren’t where Alex had tossed them. His boxers no longer dangled from the edge of the mattress. His shoes were missing, too. “Son of a…”

Now, Alex was angry. 

Before, he’d been broken-hearted.

He’d felt discarded. Played with. Left wondering. Confused and lost and miserable. He’d felt all sorts of things of the depressed and sad variety. 

But now? His blood, which just earlier today had felt like cold liquid, now surged through his veins like scalding rocket fuel that turned his whole body into a simmering, bustling pile of energy. 

Alex was fucking irate! He knew without a shadow of doubt, now, that Miles loved him. He wouldn’t have slept with him if he didn’t. He would have looked him straight into the eyes and told him the harsh truth clear and unmistakably. But he hadn’t done that. His stricken eyes had been filled with tears, tears that had taken Alex’s last shreds of doubt and turned them into unbreakable conviction. 

Miles loved him. 

So, why the fuck did that prick walk out of him, once again, without a single explanation? Huh? “Fucking asshole!” 

He scrambled out of the bed, hurried into his clothes and only now realized that he’d arrived barefoot and with no jacket. Grabbing a pair of loafers from Miles’ suitcase and the leather jacket that hung on the corner of the couch, he went out to go looking for him. “You little…” He was still grumbling. “Where the fuck are you?”

“Alex?”

Miles? Alex spun around as he pulled the door behind him shut. “Oh, Jamie.” 

“Just me,” he chuckled. “Don’t sound too disappointed.” 

Alex was about to reply, to explain, but the words died on his tongue when Jamie’s odd expression hit him. “What?”

“Your pants are undone.” Jamie raised his brows as he came closer. That odd expression of wonder made room for a sly look of amusement. “And you’re wearing Miles’ jacket. Speaking of Miles, this is his room, right?” His brows were wiggling now. “Does that mean…?”

Alex rolled his eyes. Hard. “Honestly,” he snapped, “I have no fucking idea what this means.” Fingers went to button his jeans. “Bloody prick ran out on me. Again! Have you seen him?”

“No. Have you tried downstairs? Maybe he went for a smoke.” 

“Could have said something,” groveled Alex. “He would have said something! I have to find him! He still hasn’t told me why he ended it!” Wiping his face with one hand, Alex sighed heavily. “You weren’t there, Jamie. Miles is…something is tearing him apart! I pushed for answers and…he had fucking tears in his eyes. Told him to be honest with me. To say to my face that he doesn’t love me. But he couldn’t do it! I need to know what’s going on! Shit!” He shook his head. “It got all so intense and we did it and…damnit, I shouldn’t have done that. Not without talking first!” In the heat of the moment, he hadn’t been able to think straight!

When he looked up again, to make his way to the elevator, he found Jamie’s eyes on him, intense and sharp. It was a little weird. “Would you stop looking at me like that? What’s with you?”

Jamie fell in step next to him. “Do you know how long it’s been since you confided in me? I’m coming with you. Miles is my friend, too.”

“Thanks. Seriously, though. Stop staring at me!” 

“Sorry, it’s strange seeing you like this. You’re coherent and sober and strikingly clear-headed. Which is a fucking miracle after the last couple of days. Weeks, even.”

“I was in bad shape,” admitted Alex. He knew. Maybe all of this could have gone differently but when Miles had told him that things were over, he’d dropped into a hole and not only had he been incapable of clawing his way out, he’d also been struck by how far down it went. How dark it was. And how empty. “For a while, there was no ground beneath my feet. I fell, deeper and deeper, each day.”

“And I wasn’t there for you,” spoke Jamie quietly. “When you told me you loved him, I all but made fun of you. Just…you haven’t been in love for years. I thought… I don’t even know what I thought! You write all these songs about love and then you go and break up with the girls. Guess I thought love is nothing but…”

“A songwriting tool?” Alex chuckled lightly. “Something to sharpen my pencil with? Maybe it was that, for a while. Maybe I thought I’d figured it out. You know? Like ink in a partridge, I could draw from it when needed and put away when I didn’t? I fucking hate it, to be honest. Being in love. Makes me do crazy shit! And I really can’t control it, I’ve learned. Which only makes me hate it even more!”

“But it’s worth it, in the end. I should have told you that when you said it. I should have told you to fight for it and hold onto it as hard as you can. I should have listened to you when you said it. Just like I should have listened all the other times. I spoke to Miles. In Vienna. He sat there, drunk and sad, and…” Jamie swallowed hard, then cleared his throat. “I owe him a fucking big apology, too, by the way. I was just as dismissive as I was to you. But even then, he was looking out for you!” 

He was? Alex’s eyes widened.

“Gave me hell for being a shitty friend to you. I don’t know what’s best for you. And I never will. I’m sorry for all the times that I wanted you to change. I just want you to be happy, Al!”

“For a while, music was all I had. When the stage lights went off, you had your families to return to, and I had my empty sheets of paper that I spent my nights with. I forgot that we were friends.” Now that he had his confirmation, unspoken but undeniable, that Miles loved him, all the scrambled, knotted thoughts in his head began to make sense again and he was almost amused by how clearly he suddenly saw his life. “When I’m done giving Miles hell for all this running-away-from-me shit that he’s doing, remind me to apologize to all of you for being a dick all the time.”

“I think it’s time we all remember that,” conceded Jamie. “That we’re friends first and foremost. And as your friend,” he continued, with a grin, “I’d love to give you a hug. Or ruffle your hair, ‘cause you hate that and I enjoy pissing you off, but you and Miles just fucked. God knows what kinky shit you two pull in the sheets—”

“Asshole,” laughed Alex as he pulled him in for a hug, squeezing him hard. 

The elevator door chimed open and they let go of each other. “Where would he go?” asked Jamie, turning serious again. “When he wants to be alone, would he go for a walk? To a bar?”

“The pool. The loungers, there,” said Alex quickly. Miles loved gazing at the stars. It calmed him down, he’d told him. Another thing they had in common. 

Jamie motioned to a door. “That way.” 

Alex’s steps became faster. If Miles wasn’t there, then where—

“Come on, Miles! Cheer up! I just told you something incredible, didn’t I?”

Was that Marianne?

Alex stood in the glass door that led out to the poolside. Jamie stood right behind him. And they spotted them at the same time. Miles on a lounger, a bottle of tequila in his hand, and Marianne, sitting on the side of the lounger next to him, a few papers in hers.

“Wait,” whispered Alex, stopping Jamie from going outside. What did they have to discuss? What news could Marianne possibly have for Miles? “I want to hear this.”

Jamie remained next to him, just as interested in their conversation.

“And I told you to fuck off, didn’t I? I’m growing tired of repeating myself,” snarled Miles as he brought the bottle back to his mouth. 

“Sloppy drunks make bad investments,” remarked Marianna dryly. “You’ve done well. Told you. My bosses like it when people demonstrate willingness. You broke up with Alex. You saw my side. You made a wise decision. Don’t let all of that go to waste.”

“Fuck off,” groaned Miles. “Can’t a guy enjoy his liquor in silence?”

Alex startled when he felt Jamie touch his arm. “He wouldn’t do that. Whatever she’s saying,” Jamie said, “Miles would never do that!”

He appreciated his little pep-talk, but the sinking feeling in his stomach got worse, not better with each word he heard. What the fuck did Marianne have to do with their relationship? Why…how? Alex was dumbfounded. He strained to make out the words. 

“There’s a big signing bonus on the horizon. Come on, you saw Alex on stage, right? He’s doing good, isn’t he? Fine, he drank a bit much, lately. But he’s done all the interviews I wanted him to do. He has yet to announce his departure from the band and I spoke to Matt, who told me there might still be hope. Told me the guys were all there for him. His ego took it hard that you left him. He’ll get over it.”

Miles drank more.

Alex’s knuckles were white as he clutched the door’s handle. He was on the cusp of storming out, of telling that woman what, precisely, she could do with herself, but Jamie held him back. 

“Wait,” he hissed. 

“You’re miserable company when you’re drunk. Tried finding you all day. Are you still avoiding me? What a lucky coincidence I spotted you on your way out.”

A snort from Miles. 

“You don’t have much time to decide. If you want this deal, you’ll have to sign by the end of the week. Before Paris. The label wants to announce before the show. Catch the last interviews as free advertisement. Business, you know.” She sat back, crossed her legs. “I really don’t know why you’re playing hard to get. Don’t you want to headline big festivals? You need me for that. I’ll make you a big name. Just I like I did with the Monkeys. After all, I got Alex to write again, didn’t I? The band wanted a songwriter. But let’s be honest. No fan would ever accept one. All Alex needed was a bit of pressure. He freaked out when the story about his empty pages hit the newsstands last fall. But it made him try harder!”

Miles whipped his head to the side. “That was you?”

“Who else? Oh, how would I have known?” She laughed a little. “His ex. Spilled everything in exchange for some money.”

“Stay right here,” warned Jamie.

Alex tried to break out of his hold. He was seething. He wanted to go there and—

“Get fucking lost, I swear!” Miles no longer grasped the bottle. He was pacing the patio, now. Irate and struggling for control. 

“Or what?” asked Marianne. “Sign first!” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He stopped to stare at her. “Never!”

“Then why’d you break up with him? Come on. You liked your affair with him. I could tell. You spent all that time together. Don’t tell me you grew tired of him. Then again, he’s not the most social and outgoing guy I’ve ever met. Maybe you did get bored.”

“His name is Alex,” hissed Miles. “And he’s the man I love! Watch how you speak of him!”

“Love.” Marianne grimaced in disgust. 

Miles sat back down. He looked exhausted and sad and everything Alex had been until a few hours ago. “I know you don’t understand what I’m talking about. But he is the love of my life! And right now, he’s up there, somewhere, thinking I don’t love him back! He thinks I abandoned him! I hurt him! I fucked it all up! And you’re sitting here, saying I did good? What the fuck is wrong with you? He’s your artist! Is that your idea of looking out for him? By rewarding _me_?” He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. “If you think I’d break up with him for a fucking record deal you’re even dumber than I thought! He’s incredible and wonderful and the most talented person I’ve ever met. He lives and breathes music and even though it physically pains me to admit, you had a point when you said I’d ruin it for him! The band and the music matter most to him and I could never forgive myself for taking that away from him! That is the only reason I’m not with him right now. He’s better off without me. But don’t think for a second that I’d ever sign your fucking contract! I’d rather give up on music entirely than work for you or your bosses!” He reached for the bottle again and got up. “Don’t ever fucking talk to me again!” With that, he walked away. 

There was his answer.

All the answers, actually. 

Miles thought he was doing him a favor. 

Amor and Psyche in true form!

And then it hit him. The words he’d said. He’d called him the love of his life. He loved him. Miles loved him. And he was staying away from Alex because he loved him. Fucking idiot! 

“Run after him,” said Jamie. 

But Alex couldn’t. It was too much at the moment. The revelation, the facts, that declaration of love. He was pulsating with anger. He was fucking bursting with it. He couldn’t believe that Miles would take Marianne’s words at face value. “How can he think he’d do me a favor by breaking up with me? Why would he believe he’d cost me the band?” If he went after Miles now, there was a real chance he’d fucking strangle him! Hadn’t he been very clear about his opinions about sacrificing happiness and shit like that? Miles had seen how much Alex had suffered and instead of talking to him, explaining his concerns to him, he’d just broken up? “What the fuck was he thinking! Why didn’t he come to me?”

“Who knows what she told him!” Jamie closed his eyes, sighed. “I can’t believe she’d do something like that.”

A snort from Alex. “She did the same with Katie!” 

“What?”

Alex met his eyes, startled out of his thoughts. “Years ago. Told her to stay away from you whenever there was a camera!”

“That’s why you told me about the red carpet?” Jamie's eyes now burned with anger. “What the hell, Alex? She told my wife to stay away from me? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!” 

“Katie made me promise!” 

“That’s not the kind of shit we keep from each other! I don’t give a fuck what you promised my wife. You should have told me! I would have fired her right then and there!” 

“Oh,” scoffed Alex, “you would have done that, huh? ‘Cause you kept me from firing her when I had a reason!”

“I thought your reason what stupid! Fuck, shit! Are we back to that? She fucking messed with my marriage, that bitch!” 

“She fucking messed with my life! She messed with my relationship, too!”

“She’s so fucking fired,” stated Jamie.

“Finally,” drawled Alex. “That still doesn’t explain why Miles would just believe her. Did he say anything to you? He’s been friends with all of you for years. Why would think—”

Jamie gripped his arm. “Oh no!”

“What? Tell me!” 

“The day he broke up with you…shit!”

“Fucking talk, Jamie!” 

“I talked to him. I ran into him in the elevator, after you and I got into it at the restaurant. I told him what I told you.” Jamie buried his face in his hands. “Fuck, I didn’t think anything of it! I said I’d have warned you not to be with him. He must have misunderstood—”

“Misunderstood? There wasn’t much to misunderstand! You were very clear with your words that day!” 

“And I told you I was sorry about that. I fucking meant well!”

“Did you tell that, too, or just the short version?”

“I think I said we’d lose fans and that it wouldn’t be worth it.” Alex cursed vilely. Jamie looked away. “I told you I didn’t listen properly when I should have!”

“No shit, Jamie!” 

“There’s more,” he admitted guiltily. 

Alex glared harshly now. “What more?”

“I sent Marianne to him.”

“You did fucking what?”

“Not to…” He turned away from Alex. “Not like that! Not to— I told her to tell him that the bands needs you. He made it fucking clear that he wanted to stay out of our shit. I thought if she talked to him, he might see it differently! How was I supposed to know that she’d tell him to break up with you? I might have known, if you had told me about the fucked up shit she said to my wife!” 

Alex kicked the patio door shut. “FUCK!” Now, he wanted to talk to Miles. He patted his pockets, looked for his phone. “Damnit. Gimme your phone.” 

Jamie handed it over. 

Two failed attempts at calling and a not deliverable text later, Alex had to concede to the fact that Miles’ phone was off. 

“Come on,” said Jamie and put a hand on his back, guiding him. “Let’s find Nick and Matt. I think it’s time we have a chat with the bitch.” 

Alex nodded. He was just in the right mood for that!

-

“Guys, it’s almost midnight.” Marianne sat down, as always clutching her phone in her hand. “What’s the emergency?”

“You’re fired,” Alex said it with glee in his voice. Slowly, he felt his swagger returning to him. He had his answers now. The road ahead of him was clear. He was off to get his life back. He and Jamie had explained to Nick and Matt what they’d heard and the drummer and the bassist had immediately agreed that firing Marianne was the way to go. They hadn’t hesitated for a moment. They’d let Alex know that they, too, wanted him to be happy and it was obvious to everyone by now that, in order to be that, Alex needed Miles. 

Marianne settled comfortably in her seat. “Again, Alex? You’re not your band. I don’t take orders from you.”

“You don’t take orders from anyone,” snarled Jamie. “Which is the reason _we_ , the band, collectively decided to kick your ass to the curb. You fucked with our lives. You messed with our relationships. You were supposed to watch out for us. If this is your idea—”

“I did look out for you!” She got defensive. “I made sure your wife didn’t distract from your music! I made sure Miles realized what danger his relationship with Alex posed for your band. I was the one that kept things going!”

“Miles,” gritted Alex, teeth clenched, “is mine. If anyone has a problem with that—”

Marianne interrupted him. “People will have problems with that! They already do!”

“I don’t give a fuck!” 

“And your band, Alex? Do they share your nihilism? Their jobs are on the line as well!”

Matt spoke up. “If we lose fans because they got a problem with being gay, then they can fucking go to hell! Those are not the fans we want!” 

“We’re in this to make music, not to please anybody,” declared Nick. “And it was your job to make sure we could!”

“You don’t get to fuck with our lives anymore,” concluded Alex. “I’m more than happy to repeat myself. You’re fired. And if you don’t go in silence, we’ll show just how loud we can be if we want to!” 

“This isn’t your decision to make. I was hired by your label.” 

“You don’t know?” Jamie crossed his arms. “We haven’t extended our contract yet. Negotiations are due in January. And after the success of this album, we feel very confident the label will do quite a lot to keep us. Say Goodbye to us, Marianne. And then get fucking lost!”

She got up mutely and left the room without another word. 

“That felt good,” announced Jamie, taking a deep breath. 

“It really did,” agreed Alex. They had all gathered in Alex’s room and as he walked over to the bed, to take a seat, he took a look around, saw his best friends fondly looking back at him and he smiled gratefully. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt grateful for his life. He’d gotten lost in it. He’d forgotten his way out. He’d no longer seen the whole picture, just the dirt-stained, frayed edges of the canvas and he’d judged it broken and beyond repair. 

But there was beauty in the middle. 

And it was well past due to do some restoration! 

“I’m sorry. I was an asshole lately. For the past couple of weeks—”

“Or years,” supplied Matt, grinning.

“Or years,” agreed Alex, grinning, too. “Jamie asked me why it was so easy for me to forgive Miles when I couldn’t do the same with all of you and – I guess Miles never let me get away with it. He gave as good as I did—”

“Nasty!” Nick hit his head with a pillow. 

Everyone was laughing. 

Alex was, too. “That’s not what I meant!” He got serious again for a moment. “I need you to keep me on my toes. Let me know when I mess up or when I’m rude and dismissive. Don’t ignore me or let me be.”

“First things first,” Matt told him. “Before we keep you on your toes, we should actually get you on your toes. What’s your plan for Miles? From what I’ve heard from you guys, he’s got it in his head that he’s bad for you. Think a simple talk will change that?”

No. Alex didn’t believe that. He knew that Miles at times thought very poorly of himself and Alex didn’t blame him. He knew about his breakup and his troubles early on in his career when he didn’t get the recognition he deserved. He knew what that could do to one’s feeling of self-worth. “He knows I love him. I’ve told him. And he still walked away.”

“So let’s find a way where he can’t walk away,” suggested Matt.

“He’s a big romantic, isn’t he? How about some grand gesture,” Jamie proposed. “In Vienna, when we were checking in, Katie was gushing about the staircase and a big reunion…”

Alex eyed him warily. “I love Miles, don’t get me wrong. I’ll do anything to get him back, but…let’s not get too, you know, _cheesy_!”

That got a laugh from the rest of the band. 

Jamie smirked. “Less staircase, more cab ride, then?”

Eyes wide, Alex stared at him. It couldn’t be. How could he possibly know, right? “Do you…?”

“Somebody fill me in! What’s happening?” asked Nick. 

“What cab ride?” pressed Matt. 

“Our dear little Alex loves getting it on in public!” Jamie had a massive grin on his face as he reveled in Nick and Matt’s undivided attention. “He bloody wanked Miles in the back of a cab!” 

Nick gaped and Matt was in awe. “Dirty fucker,” said the drummer. “What else did you two do?”

“A whole lot of shit,” Alex declared, glaring at Jamie, “that will never see the light of day. How the fuck did you know that?”

Jamie shrugged. “Miles told Katie, who told me. She got a little jealous and wanted her own adventure, so…”

Alex shook his head, surprisingly amused. “Don’t tell me—”

“It wasn’t a cab,” he said, biting back a chuckle. “Subway in Berlin!”

Matt turned to Nick. “I feel old now.” 

More laughter.

“Back to the problem,” said Nick eventually. “How do we get Miles back?”

-

They hadn’t talked. For days, Miles had done a hell of a job avoiding Alex. As though he had a sixth sense about where Alex would be, Miles managed to not cross his path a single time. It was a remarkable achievement, truly, considering the hotel was small and the Brussels venue wasn’t an arena, either. Actually, Alex had assumed they’d bump into each other nonstop! 

Maybe it was a good thing, though. 

Alex had a few things left to do on his list before he was ready to talk to Miles and Miles was, well, honestly, Alex had no idea how Miles was because he hadn’t seen much of him in days! 

Okay, maybe it wasn’t a good thing. He definitely missed him. He was dying to get back into his arms! He yearned to feel his warm lips all over his skin as they’d place little kisses everywhere. His eyes drifted close at the memories. 

Sunday night during the gig, after being forced to by Matt and Nick, Miles had joined them on stage for _505._ Alex had behaved with admirable professionalism. He’d remained on one side of the stage, alongside Jamie. Both had graciously left half of a big stage to Miles, to give him space and to let him know that they could separate private life from business. 

Jamie, too, wanted to talk to Miles. But he hadn’t managed to catch him, either. 

After the song was done and Miles had done his share with cold precision and not a single moment of eye-contact, Miles had bowed, left and vanished off into the night. 

Stubborn prick that he was! 

Well. 

One more show to play. 

They had arrived in Paris a few hours ago. 

The end was nigh. 

Alex checked the time on his phone. It was official. His parents were late. Shaking his head at the mere idea of that, he waved for the waiter, ordered another coffee and leaned back again. He sat outside, on the patio of his favorite cafe near his place, gazed out and got lost in the throng of strangers and strangenesses that he witnessed. 

“Dear!” His mother smothered him with a hug from behind, almost strangling him. 

He coughed for good measure. 

“Son,” said his father, much more reserved, but equally delighted to see him. He patted his back a few times and tousled his hair. What was it with people and their need to mess with his coif? 

Alex pulled out his comb and rolled his eyes. 

“We’re late, dear,” his mother explained as they took their seats, not the least bit apologetic about it. “There was…oh, it was wonderful!” She had a dreamy look on her face and smiled warmly at his father. “Wasn’t it wonderful?”

“What was?” asked Alex, curious. 

“There was a street musician, playing the violin! And people were dancing. We danced.” She sighed. “Beautiful!” 

“You danced in the street?” He was a little surprised. His mother might be impulsive, but his dad wasn’t. 

“You danced in an elevator!” Said Penny, defensively. 

Alex moved to speak, paused, and nodded. “Fair point.” Not something he’d ever thought he’d do, but he’d done it. Because love made you do silly, ridiculous things. Speaking of which… “There are a few things we have to discuss.”

“Is your broken washing machine one of those things?” Penny reached over, tugged on his sleeve and served a look of disapproval. “Alex, I raised you better than this. If your machine eats your sweaters, it’s time to get a new one!” 

He jerked his arm away. “Mother, stop! I paid a lot of money for that hole! It’s supposed to be there.” 

“What a strange world we live in,” she marveled incredulously. “Since when do we pay extra for holes?”

He rolled his eyes again, harder this time, inhaled and exhaled deeply, then began anew. “As I was saying, my life has changed, somewhat, during tour.” 

“Did you grow up?” Penny smiled cheekily. 

He addressed his father. “What’s with her?”

“Three espressos, a glass of champagne on the flight and I’m not all that certain that muffin she bought from the weird vendor hiding in an alley on our way here wasn’t, maybe, you know, having a little extra ingredient.” David Turner lowered his head into his hand and chuckled. 

Alex was dumbstruck. “She ate a weed muffin?”

“She was hungry. You know how she gets. She’s nervous about flying, so she doesn’t eat anything, and then, when we land, she’s hungry! We took the train to our hotel. She wanted to travel adventurously. Then we walked here, and before I knew what was happening, there she was, munching that muffin. The vendor had weed plants painted all over his cart, so…”

“She’s high,” he resumed resignedly. “Great.”

“Who is high?” Penny asked. She was fidgeting with his sleeve again. 

Alex let her. “Well, I can’t help it. Mother, listen, okay? This is important!” 

She nodded firmly. “Okay.” 

Alex snorted. Unbelievable! “As you know, I’ve been spending a lot of time with Miles lately. We sort of bonded by the end of summer and then…erm…how to say it…” 

“Are you retiring?”

“What?” He blinked. How did she jump to that assumption? “Why would you think so?” 

“It would be good! You’d have time to buy clothes without holes, then.” The prospect seemed to excite her. “I could go shopping with you!” 

“Or not,” he stated quickly. “Not retiring. Not at all.” As a matter of fact, he was actually well on his way with the next Monkeys album. His inspiration had officially returned, stronger and mightier than ever. “We’ll probably be back in the studio around spring.” 

Penny looked distraught. “No new sweater, then?”

“Would you forget about the sweater?!” He pulled his sleeve away and crossed his arms. “Focus, mother!” 

“I focus,” she announced.

David chuckled. “She’s cute, ey?”

It was bloody ridiculous. He was the rock star at this table. His parents were respectable and well-behaved. He was supposed to be high, not his mother! “I’m gay,” he blurted out. “I love Miles. And I’m trying to get him back.”

“Miles?” David nodded approvingly, seemingly impressed with Alex’s choice. “He’s a true gentleman! He’ll be good for you!”

Penny nodded vigorously. “His sweaters don’t have holes!” 

Yep. This was exactly what he’d imagined this conversation to be like. “He’s a guy. You got that part, right? Just clarifying.” 

David frowned. “Yes? I’ve met him before, Alex. He made a funny joke about that dictionary of yours. Chuckled a bit.” 

Alex threw his arms up and gave up. “Fine, then. That was me, coming out to you.”

“Would you prefer we disapprove of that?” David looked amused while he spotted the waiter, ordered a coffee and a tall glass of water for Penny, then smiled at his son. “Be judgemental and that sort?”

“No,” said Alex. He had no idea what he had expected, truth be told. “I mean, I know you’re cool about all this stuff, but… Don’t know, maybe I expected a bit more shock.” 

“I’d be more shocked if you had announced your engagement to a woman, to be honest. I’ve seen you look at Miles. And Penny told me all about your constant rambles about him. He’s been on your mind for a bit, now, isn’t he? I mean, when she told me you waltzed with him, that sort of tipped me off. Dear, I’m happy for you. But what’s this about you trying to get him back? Did he slip away? Did you let him go?”

“I like his sweaters!” 

“I love you,” David told her. 

Alex chuckled softly. They were a thing of their own, his parents. He wondered if, forty years from now, he and Miles would sit here as well, high on Muffins, enjoying their rock star retirement. He liked to think they would. “It’s complicated…” For the next thirty minutes, he proceeded to fill them in on his relationship with Miles and how they had gone from friends to lovers to miserable idiots. 

By the time he was done, his mother had tears in her eyes and announced, with a stern voice, that she was buying both of them new sweaters and his father just looked at her as if he was falling in love with his wife all over again. 

“What if…” Alex spoke quietly, almost afraid of the words he was about to utter. “What if he doesn’t want me back?” 

“Then I’ll buy you two sweaters. And a pair of jeans that actually fit you!” Penny proclaimed. 

Involuntary laughter bubbled from Alex. “I love you, mom.” 

-

Alex’s parents had opted to stay at a hotel. He didn’t mind. If things went well, he’d be spending the next few days or weeks or whatever amount of time in this house with Miles anyway. Tossing his jacket away, he went up to his bedroom, took in his surroundings and discovered that, while nicely decorated, thanks to one of those fancy, overpriced interior designers, his bedroom looked like a snapshot from a catalog. Clean and in order, not an item out of place. A giant vase of fresh flowers sat by the window, and a monstrous green plant lived across from it. 

But there wasn’t a single thing in this room that tied it to him. Not a picture, not a memento, not even a book or a record. His London apartment was scarcely decorated. It was messy and unkempt, but it was his and it at least carried traces of his personality. This place? It felt lifeless. 

He walked over to the large dresser across the room. It was wide and stylish and, as had been explained to him after he’d seen the bill, very _Scandinavian_ , as though that somehow justified the price. Alex had pointed out that the sticker on the back of it said ‘made in China’ and, in return, the interior designer had quit on him. Six identical drawers sat in two rows. Each had a sleek black handle. He pulled the top two open and looked inside. A variety of boxers and briefs sat in one, stuffed, not folded. The other one carried a remarkably colorful selection of socks. He smiled at that, bemused. He only ever wore dark socks or tennis socks. Where did all the other ones come from? Were they leftovers from his youth? He grabbed the large plastic bag he’d come with and began to fill it with every pair of socks and underwear that he didn’t like anymore. When he was done with that, he moved on to the next drawers. He got rid of a dozen well-worn vests, some strange items such as dark running tights that he couldn’t remember ever buying. There was a bra in the lower drawer, hidden in the far back and he tried to recall which one of his ex-girlfriends might have left it there, but he only drew blanks. A _Miles Kane_ shirt sat in the same drawer and Alex chuckled when he pulled it out. 

Miles had given it to him, once. Years ago. They’d all performed at a festival and it had rained relentlessly that day. Alex had slipped on the muddy ground on his way to the gig and Miles had been backstage signing some of the merch for fans when he’d spotted him, covered in dirt from head to toe. He’d tossed the shirt at him. “You’ll want to change before you go out there,” he’d said. 

Alex had been forced to decide between looking like a muddy poodle or a groupie. He’d taken Miles’ shirt, had deliberately put it on inside out, and had held his head high despite numerous quips and jokes and remarks from his band members. 

Miles, though, he’d stayed quiet. But for the rest of the weekend, he’d worn that haughty look of victory like a fucking medal! 

Alex stuffed the shirt back into the drawer. He’d keep that one. Maybe he’d get Miles to wear a Monkeys shirt sometime in the future. 

When he was all done, three drawers were completely empty. He closed them and was happy with the result. He could check another item on his list of things to do. Next up: he had a song to finish. 

.

.

**SPOILER Chapter 30:**

#

Until Alex cleared his throat. “At any rate, there’s one more thing I learned as well.”

“What’s that?” asked Miles absentmindedly, pretending he wasn’t hanging on his every word. 

“I’m not nearly as jaded as I thought I was.” 

“Meaning what?”

Alex got up, turned to look at Miles one more time and graced him with a smile so soft and loving that it instantly disrupted his steady heartbeat by turning it into a thunderous rumble. “See you tonight,” he smirked. “It’ll be a big one. You really don’t want to miss it.”

#

Katie tapped his cheek with her finger and turned it gently back toward the stage. “Keep watching! Who do you think Alex is performing for? The crowd?” She laughed. “The little hoe is holding onto the mic stand as though it’s a damn stripper pole! See Matt? He can hardly keep a straight face!”

Miles kept watching, then. Kept watching Alex and his fucking display of…well, what exactly, anyway, huh? They were fucking broken up! Miles was leaving the country in less two hours! They were done! It was over. It didn’t matter anymore that he was a coward, he told himself. 

#


	30. It's Your Decision, Babe!

**Present Day**

**Paris**

Miles loved Paris. It was the city of infinite inspiration. It brimmed with history, it was covered from head to toe with tales of triumph, and there was nary a corner in which one couldn’t find an artist or a singer following their heart. It was the city of endless dreams and unimaginable possibilities. He’d always felt welcome here. Until now.

As he stood on one of the large, historic bridges that connected the sides of the Seine, he realized that Paris was the kind of city that demanded you share it with somebody else. Its wonders and its marvels were too big to experience on once own and the person Miles wanted to share it all with he’d send off to suffer in solitude as well.

He hadn’t spoken to Alex since their night in Brussels. He’d been too ashamed to seek contact or a clarifying talk. He’d fucked up. Bit time. The plan had been to remain at as far a distance from him as possible for the remainder of the tour and then to never tour with the Monkeys again. Contact with Alex led to no good. Not for Alex and not for him. Too weak to resist him and not meant to be with him, Miles was in no condition to stay in his vicinity. He had his reasons for steering clear of him, only, Alex didn’t know. And Miles couldn’t blame him for demanding an explanation. What a horrible thing he was doing to him! Alex’s ever curious and demanding mind must be doing him in. But how was Miles supposed to simplify to him that they were a bad idea? Alex would never accept his choice! His love wanted what he wanted and he was relentless in his pursuit. Alex, stubborn that was, never cared for consequences. In the past, it had been on Miles to keep the chips from falling into the wrong place.

He hadn’t minded. Not one bit. It had felt too good to be his object of desire. He’d experienced a kind of happiness that he hadn’t known existed. That meant reminding, and thereby annoying, Alex every now and then that they had to keep a low profile. Miles’ only wish had been to make Alex get to encounter the same sort of happiness. He’d wanted to share that happiness with him. At what price, though, he now thought. He’d underestimated the depth of what they’d gotten into. Now, Alex was sad and heartbroken. Miles had never meant for that to happen. He’d never imagined that Alex would fall in love with him. Not like this. It had always supposed to have been just sex. A physical thing, born out of mutual, uncontrollable lust. Not love. Never this kind of love.

As he leaned on his arms, gazing over the banister into the swirling waters of the river, he felt his phone vibrating. Too lost in thought, he answered without checking for the caller ID. “Yes?”

Silence. “You picked up?”

“Jamie?”

“Sorry, yeah. I didn’t expect that. You’ve dodged my calls for days! Can we meet? Where are you? I really have to talk to you!”

Miles didn’t want to talk. He wanted to spend his days in Paris by himself, away from his guilt and his regret.

“I’ll come to you. Tell me where.” Jamie was insistent. “We’ve been friends for over ten years, Miles. Please, can we meet?”

“Fine,” he agreed, reluctantly. “Remember that cafe we went to, last time we were here? Let’s meet there?”

“I’ll be there. Half an hour?”

“Alright.”

It was within walking distance and Miles made his way there, with time to spare. He chose a table on the outside, smoker that he was, and was surprised when Jamie showed up early as well. He couldn’t have been at the hotel, then. That was too far away, especially with traffic being as chaotic as it was at this time of the day.

“You’re already here?” Jamie sat down, a smile on his face. “I figured I’d be first. I was at Alex’s. He’s been playing us his new material.”

“He is?” Miles was overcome by immense relief. It meant that Alex and the band had reconciled, and he wasn’t alone and lonely. He had his friends, his family to keep him company and to distract him. “That’s great to hear! Are they good? The new songs? Of course, they are,” he quickly added, answering his own question. “It’s Alex!”

“Better than good,” gushed Jamie.

Both ordered coffee when the waiter came around.

“How are you?” Jamie asked, concerned. “Don’t bite my head off for asking. I know you’re miserable,” he informed him, “but…are you managing?”

A snort from Miles. “I’m not dying! I broke up with Alex. And I did it because—”

“You’re stupid!” Jamie declared.

His eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Don’t take it as an insult. It’s my fault. I made you be stupid. It’s the reason I wanted to talk to you. To apologize. I – the whole band, really – we’ve done some soul-searching kind of shit lately and we all collectively decided that we’re dumb fucks who nearly ruined it all.”

“I—”

“Let me finish,” interrupted Jamie, “please. When I talked to you in the elevator, I did a messed-up job of explaining myself. And even if I had explained myself better, I’d have still said a lot of bullshit. I know that now. It was never my intention to leave you with the impression that I or the rest of the band are against you and Alex as a couple. We don’t care that you two are gay. We’re more than okay with that! And I was wrong to say that trying it and going for it isn’t worth it. How else are you supposed to figure it out, right? I am genuinely, deeply sorry. I should have been your friend. I should have congratulated you on having found each other. Instead, I put all this nonsense in your head. I hope you can forgive me for that.”

Miles was speechless. At no point had he thought to hear those words from Jamie! He hadn’t expected an apology. He hadn’t even believed he deserved one. He still didn’t. “What you said was the truth, though. I appreciate what you’re telling me. I really do. But you don’t need my forgiveness, Jamie! There’s no denying the truth. I’ve seen it, black on white. Comments online, about Alex and me. It would kill him to lose this life that he loves so much.”

“Forget that shit! It kills him not to have you.”

Miles disagreed. “He doesn’t need me. He’s gone his whole life without me. He’ll be fine without me in the future.”

“You don’t believe that! Will you be fine? Are you able to, just, shrug off what you had with him? He told us about it. You think you fall in love like that on a regular basis? What you had, it’s rare and special! And you’re wrong, by the way. He’s had you for half of his life. Not like he had you in the last couple of weeks, but you were always there. And so was he. We all saw it, Miles! You were the first person he spotted, no matter how crowded the room was. I think it was the second time you and Alex met. You were getting into it again. I remember Matt walking up to me, watching the two of you, and he said Alex had finally found his match. I laughed. The memory came back to me, recently. Who would have thought he was right?”

“We were just arguing. It’s all we ever did.”

“That’s bullshit. And it took me way too long to understand that it isn’t true. It never was. Know how many people I met in my life that I didn’t like? Countless. I never sought them out just to get into a fight!”

Had he done that? Miles tried to recall.

“You wanted to spend time with him. So did Alex, with you!”

  
  


**2006**

**London**

_“Tuned your guitar.” Miles leaned against the wall of the small but crowded club, arms crossed, smirking. “Well done, Turner.”_

_Alex, standing amidst a small circle of people, glanced back, over his shoulder, toward Miles. “Stalking me now?”_

_“I could ask the same. Saw you hovering at the side of the stage earlier, when I played. Did you come to watch how a professional does it?”_

_A mix between a grin and a scowl appeared on Alex’s face. “If I wanted to watch a professional, I honestly wouldn’t come to see you. But it’s cute, adorable almost, that you think so highly of yourself. I did tune my guitar,” he admitted nonchalantly. “But I did it because it needed to be tuned and certainly not because you told me to.”_

_Miles’ smirk grew. “You do realize that I only told you to tune it because it needed to be tuned, right?”_

_“You seem to be under the mistaken impression that I care for your fustian opinion.”_

_“Fustian?” Miles snorted. “Where’d you discover that word? Under layers of dust in the attic?”_

_“It’s a valid word,” Alex informed him, with an air of superiority that bemused Miles. “It adequately expresses my thoughts about your presupposition.”_

_“Seriously!” Miles was laughing now. “Did you eat a dictionary for lunch? You sound like bloody Shakespeare!”_

_“That,” Alex declared haughtily, with an edge. “I’ll take as a compliment.”_

_“It wasn’t one.”_

_“Should have said it differently, then!”_

_“Advice well taken,” retorted Miles, finding himself on the brink between being entertained and offended. “I’ll watch my words from now on.”_

_“Do that. It’s generally considered a wise idea.” He’d slipped away from his circle of acquaintances and leaned next to Miles, against the wall, now. His leg was bent, his foot propped up against the wall. Arms crossed as well. “After all, I’d hate for you to piss off more strangers.”_

_“Did I piss you off?”_

_“I’m bigger than most strangers.”_

_“Figuratively, you must assume. Literally, you’re not. On second thought, figuratively you aren’t, either,” decided Miles._

_Alex glared at him sideways. “I’m taller than you.”_

_“Who is talking about size now?” Miles met his eyes, then trailed them down his body. “And you’re not. You wearing heels.”_

_“Boots, you—” He breathed in and out, forcibly. “I’m wearing boots,” he said then, calmly._

_“With heels.”_

_“Don’t you have friends to talk to?”_

_“Got bored. You?”_

_Alex looked away. “You mean your friends got bored talking to you?”_

_He ignored that one. “Why did you watch me play?”_

_“Curiosity,” acknowledged Alex, surprising Miles with his honesty. “You spoke so arrogantly to me last time that I wanted to know if you deserved that attitude.”_

_“Oh.” He raised his brows, intrigued. “Do I?”_

_“Not even remotely,” judged Alex. “You got a nice guitar. It’s sad, though, that you play it. It’d serve me much better. Your fingers are agile, I’ll admit. But you get stuck on the complicated notes that you try to play, and stumble over the easy ones, then, for you can’t slip back and forth quickly enough. And you should seriously work on your stamina. Sounded a bit breathless towards the end.”_

_Miles felt insulted. “At least I didn’t croak like a dying frog by the end of my set like you did!”_

_“A dying frog?” Alex turned to face him, indignant. “That is such a lie!”_

_“Croak, croak, croak,” mocked Miles, staring straight into his eyes as he did so._

_Alex held Miles’ gaze and raised the stakes by leaning closer. “You’re a bloody arrogant prick!”_

_“And you’re much worse than I thought you were!”_

_“At least I know how to play the guitar!”_

_“If only you knew how to tune it…”_

  
  


**Present Day**

Miles finished his coffee and nudged the empty cup away. “I appreciate you coming to me and saying all that. We’re good. No hard feelings. I really mean that. But Alex and I…it is what it is. Never meant to be.”

“Have you told him that you love him? Don’t you think he deserves to know?”

“It wouldn’t make things better!” As much as he valued his friendship with Jamie, he just wanted to be left alone. Speaking about all that he used to have with Alex made it hurt that much more! Of course, he wanted Alex to know that he loved him! He wanted to tell him in great detail all the reasons why Miles considered him to be amazing and wonderful and perfect. He wanted Alex to know that he was destined for this life of music and fans and adoration. He deserved all of that and so much more! But if Miles told him, wouldn’t it make it harder for Alex to let him go? Wasn’t he better off thinking Miles didn’t love him? Wouldn’t he be better off hating him? It was why he’d left after their night. It was why he’d snuck out like a coward. If Alex hated him, he’d have a much easier time getting over him.

Miles pulled out his phone, checked the time and lied. “I have a meeting. I have to go.” He’d head back to the hotel and hide in his room. Maybe he’d get drunk, first. That seemed to numb the loneliness. “See you tomorrow.”

“You’re coming out to play _505_ with us, you know that, right? It’s the last show of the tour. We plan on going out with a bang!”

“As much as I love playing that song with you, you know you have bigger hits, right? Some really impressive numbers. Like, bangers to rock out to!”

“We’ll do _505_ ,” said Jamie, leaving no room for discussion. “We’ll do _Adolescent Fluorescent_ towards the end, this time. A fan favorite. Then we may or may not do a new song, depending on how Alex is feeling. We won’t rehearse it tomorrow ‘cause there’ll be press and we don’t want to spoil anything. So, you’ll have to be there by the time _Adolescent_ ends.”

Miles was stunned. “You want to perform new material already?”

“It’s a good song,” stated Jamie proudly. “You’ll love it when you hear it. It was a thought we had. The tour had its ups and downs and we figured the new song might make a good transition towards a new era. Something of a…” He pondered his words. “A hint of what’s to expect in the future.”

“Whatever you think is best. I’m looking forward to hearing it,” assured Miles. “And I’ll be there. In time. Ready to hit the stage when you want.”

“Perfect. Tomorrow will be a big one,” exclaimed Jamie, full of excitement.

It was the last show of the tour and that by itself was something special. However. “You’ve played bigger shows,” Miles pointed out, amused. “Why do you sound, like, nervous?”

“I’m eager. Not nervous. Wear your happy face tomorrow,” said Jamie softly, giving Miles’ arm a comforting squeeze.

Miles frowned skeptically. “Jamie? Like I tried to tell you before, it’s okay. It’s better this way.” He really wanted to believe that.

“See you tomorrow, Miles. Get some sleep. You look tired.”

“See you tomorrow.”

-

He had certainly tried to sleep. But he’d failed massively. The moment he’d closed his eyes, images of Alex had filled every last crevice of his thoughts and then he’d struggled for the rest of the night to push those images away again. He wasn’t doing himself any favors dwelling on the past, and clinging to memories of himself and Alex was making it that much harder to keep it together. His head knew that. His heart refused to listen. It craved Alex. It craved him desperately.

Miles rubbed his tired eyes and sighed. He was hungry, he felt it. But he had no appetite. Nothing drew him in, anymore. Not food. Not music. Not going out. Not meeting new people. Everything had become a chore. Something necessary, to assure survival. Other than that, though, all felt empty and hollow. Dangling his feet from the stage, he sat there and waited for time to pass. The Monkeys had sound-checked before him. All press was officially done with. The only thing left to do was play the actual show and, then, go home.

Return to life.

“Hey.”

His shoulders tensed. His nerves flared. He looked around and realized in shock that he was alone in the large concert hall, all alone. With Alex. Where had all the other people gone off to? All the roadies and stagehands and technicians? He tentatively met his eyes, scared to look into them, afraid to see the pain that he put there. But when he finally looked, he saw none. Miles swallowed hard. “Hi.”

“Can I sit down for a minute?”

Miles nodded, the movement jerky. Alex sounded calm and collected. Vastly different from how Miles felt at the moment.

For a bit, they sat in complete silence. Until Miles couldn’t take it anymore. However, just as he was about to speak up, Alex began to talk. “Last show, huh? Feels like yesterday that we played in London. And yet, so much has happened.” A timid smile flickered on his face. “Hated my band. Got along with my band. Broke up with my band. Reunited with my band.” The smile lingered now. “Fell in love.”

“With your band?” Miles quipped it too fast for his head to put a stop to it.

Alex tossed a surprised grin at him, so quickly and so easily that Miles didn’t know what was happening. As though he’d been hit with something and it had knocked the wind right out of him.

“Jamie told me that he spoke to you about our plans for tonight. But…” He looked away again, let his gaze wander around the empty arena. “I wanted to ask you myself. I would truly like for you to join us for the final number of the last show. Our fans love you. And the song has become more than just a Monkeys number. It’s ours, now. And you deserve to play with us. You have every right to be on that stage with us. I know we played the song together in Brussels. Just, it felt odd. You on one side of the stage and I on the other. I can’t help the fact that things are different between us, now…”

As Miles listened to Alex, explaining how a good performance needed the song to be the front and center and not the drama that surrounded the people who performed it, he was taken aback by how serenely he spoke. He’d chosen his words in advance, no doubt. But he said it all with such striking grace that Miles wondered if Alex had actually accepted the broken state of their relationship. There was no hurt and no pain in his voice. No confusion and no lingering objection. He looked sharp and awake and far from the mess Miles considered himself to be.

“…so, can we count on you?”

He nodded. “I promise. Jamie told me that you may or may not perform a new song. Told me when to be ready. I’ll be there. And you’re right. We should perform properly. It is the last show we’ll ever play together—”

“What?” Alex’s head snapped up. His eyes were wide as he stared at Miles.

What did Alex expect? “Tour’s over.”

“Yeah…but—”

“I can’t, Alex.” Miles was whispering, swallowing hard, trying to control his emotions. “You and I…we can’t do another tour together. I’ll be leaving for the airport right after the show. Back to London. And then, tomorrow, I plan on going back to the States for a while. Distance and all that. I need to go far away from everything.”

Silence fell over them again. Minutes passed.

“My parents are in town. They’ll be at the show tonight. Told ‘em about us.”

It was Miles’ turn to stare at Alex. “You did?”

He shrugged. Nodded slightly. “I said that my life had changed and the first thing my mother replied was asking, rather jokingly, if I had grown up. I made light of it and she was high anyway, so—”

“What?” He was trying to keep up, now.

Alex waved it off. “Long story. Never mind, I think she had a point. Feels a bit like I grew up during this tour. Not just the last weeks. But during the whole thing. I had a lot of decisions to make. I had to choose and decide what I wanted from life. Know what I learned?”

Miles shook his head.

“I’m very impulsive and that’s a good thing, not a bad one. I hate it when others decide for me and it was about time I took control of certain things. And when I want something and really put my head and my heart into it, I almost always get what I want.”

“I think I called you arrogant for that on a few occasions,” mused Miles, trying hard to keep this conversation light.

“You might have done that,” agreed Alex. “And if I recall correctly, you also told me you rather liked that side of me.” For a brief second, their gazes met and lingered on another. Until Alex cleared his throat. “At any rate, there’s one more thing I learned as well.”

“What’s that?” asked Miles absentmindedly, pretending he wasn’t hanging on his every word.

“I’m not nearly as jaded as I thought I was.”

“Meaning what?”

Alex got up, turned to look at Miles one more time and graced him with a smile so soft and loving that it instantly disrupted his steady heartbeat by turning it into a thunderous rumble. “See you tonight,” he smirked. “It’ll be a big one. You really don’t want to miss it.”

-

By the time the show began, Miles had not only promised Jamie and Alex that he’d be side stage, prepared and ready to go, he’d also had to make the same promise to Matt and then, once he’d left, to Nick. Should he take offense? Had he forgotten some kind of important date or something? Anything that would explain all those reminders? He shook his head, made his way on stage surrounded by his band and spotted every member of the Arctic Monkeys standing on the other side of it, cheering and clapping and ready to enjoy the show.

Maybe they had all gone a little nuts. They’d certainly behaved oddly today. Jamie hadn’t been able to stop grinning every time he saw him. Matt had patted his back more than once. Nick had brought a fancy bottle of Champagne to his dressing room, letting him know he’d want that to celebrate the big finale and even Katie had acted even crazier than she usually did, giving him two really tight hugs and whispering nonsensical things into his ear. If he didn’t know better, he’d say they had collectively lost it!

When he finished his gig, he took a long last bow in front of the raucous audience alongside his band and graciously thanked them all for welcoming him and his band to this tour and loving his songs as much as he did.

Then he turned towards the side of the stage which he’d come from. And promptly encountered Alex. “What the—” He jerked upright, not prepared to find himself face to face with him. Miles was aware of every single person in the audience. He felt trapped inside all this attention. Cornered by Alex. “Weren’t you just at the other side of the stage?”

“Yep. Ran around the back of it.”

“Why—” The words died on his lips when Alex reached for his neck, wrapped his hand around it and towed him into a fierce hug. His other hand curled possessively around his back, as it had done countless times before. Muscles taut, Miles held his breath. “Alex,” he tried, wiggling free, “what the fuck?” He couldn’t handle hugs from him! Any sort of touch, truly. He could smell him, then. Feel him. Everywhere! This damned embrace, it messed with his head. It made him weak and dumb and, overall, it was dangerous and unfair! Whatever made him bloody do it in the first place?! “Please, let me go!”

“One for the road,” Alex commented slyly, winked and let go slowly, taking his damn time, only to proceed onto the stage, into the spotlight and away from Miles’ peaked curiosity.

He hovered at the side, afterward. Unable to leave. Incapable of not watching. Even though he’d meant to remain in his dressing room until he absolutely had to go out there.

One for the road.

Alex’s words echoed in his head.

To hell with it! He’d watch, then. One last time.

One for the memories. One last chance to observe, to hear, and to savor all those moves that Alex made. Those tantalizing sways of his hips. Those cheeky little grins and dirty licks of his lips. Those drawled out notes that played so rudely with his best intentions. Those fine fingers as they danced magically across the strings. Miles reached out, grabbed a metal bar and clung to it as the pain in his heart threatened to take his legs out. It was bloody time he got away from it all. Away from Alex, he might stand a chance of forgetting him. Yet, even as he thought it, hoped for it, he was well aware that he was fooling himself. Alex had ingrained himself onto his soul. He’d burned his initials into Miles’ heart. And he’d kissed his lips one too many times for Miles to ever forget their taste.

“You alright?”

He shut his eyes briefly, shook his head and forced himself to smile at Katie. “’Tis alright. Last night. It’s getting to me.”

“The night or Alex?”

The smile fell from his face. “You know the answer.”

“He’s right there, in reach. All you have to do is go and get him. You could go right now!”

“On stage? Are you insane? In front of the whole audience? Nobody can ever know, Katie.”

“If it’s the reaction of people you’re scared of, why didn’t you ever suggest keeping it a secret? You know? Stay with Alex. In private.”

“Because we’re too reckless for that. You all knew about us! We thought we were subtle and secretive. It’d only be a matter of time before people found out.”

“For a while, you didn’t care.”

And those days had been the happiest of his life. But it had been during those days that the rumors had begun to fly. It had been then that people had tweeted vile things about Alex and had posted the cruelest remarks online. “They’d crucify him for being with me.”

“You’d be speechless if you ever read what they post about me on the internet. There’s an entire group of fans dedicated to calling me the most disgusting things you can think of. Jamie threw a fit when he found out. Wanted to sue the internet. Silly man,” she said, immediately gazing dreamily at her husband. “None of that matters in the end. Have you ever seen Alex googling himself? Has he ever listened to some stranger’s opinion about him?”

“No,” Miles had to admit. “But—”

“But what?” She curled her arm around his back. “Don’t pretend that the answer is yes. I think you’re the one who is scared. Alex got over his fear of love. You still haven’t told him, have you? You could be happy with him. You would be!” Shifting, she faced the stage fully now. Miles watched as well. “By the way, they fired Marianne.”

He spun around. “What? Why?”

“‘Cause she did a big, bad thing to somebody.” Katie tapped his cheek with her finger and turned it gently back toward the stage. “Keep watching! Who do you think Alex is performing for? The crowd?” She laughed. “The little hoe is holding onto the mic stand as though it’s a damn stripper pole! See Matt? He can hardly keep a straight face!”

Miles kept watching, then. Kept watching Alex and his fucking display of…well, what exactly, anyway, huh? They were fucking broken up! Miles was leaving the country in less two hours! They were done! It was over. It didn’t matter anymore that he was a coward, he told himself.

He felt himself getting dizzy. Nausea overcame him. “Let go, Katie. Let me go!” He tried breaking free of her hold. “I can’t stay.”

“Nope.” She dug her nails into his arm.

He winced in pain.

“My job is to keep you here. Right here. By the stage.”

He couldn’t comprehend her remark. His thoughts were scrambled. His mind was woozy. His sight was hazy. And now this? He kept tugging his arm, tried to get away without being too rough and hurting her. “Please!”

“You’ve done so well,” she said encouragingly. “You’ve been so lost in thought that you didn’t even notice that their show is almost over. Only two more songs!”

“Two more…?” He shook his head, restless. “I can’t go on stage. I don’t care if you call me the world’s greatest coward. Do it. Hate me for it. Let me go!”

“Watch this!” She said.

The lights dimmed on stage. Alex directed his attention to the side, seeking him out, and Miles caught his gaze. There was an insanely tranquil expression resting comfortably on his face. An earthquake couldn’t shake him tonight. And, startling as it was, that relaxed look immediately calmed Miles down. He held on to Alex’s eyes as though they were his lifeline.

A slow smile spread on Alex’s face as he wrapped his hand around the mic, pulling it towards his mouth, not once breaking contact with him. “We got a new song that we’d like to play tonight.”

The audience cheered deafeningly.

“This one’s for you, then.” Eyes glued to each other, Alex took a deep breath and his unique and deep voice began to fill the air.

  
  


“Have you got color in your cheeks?

Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift the type

That sticks around like summat in your teeth?

Are there some aces up your sleeve?

Have you no idea that you're in deep?

I've dreamt about you nearly every night this week

How many secrets can you keep?

'Cause there's this tune I found

That makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat

Until I fall asleep, spillin' drinks on my settee

If this feelin' flows both ways?”

  
  


“You’re squeezing my hand really tight,” commented Katie with a laugh.

He quickly let go. But he didn’t, not for a second, rip his focus away from Alex.

  
  


“(Sad to see you go) Was sorta hopin' that you'd stay

(Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made

For sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day

Crawlin' back to you

Ever thought of callin' when

You've had a few?

'Cause I always do

Maybe I'm too

Busy bein' yours

To fall for somebody new

Now, I've thought it through

Crawlin' back to you

So have you got the guts?

Been wonderin' if your heart's still open

And if so, I wanna know what time it shuts

Simmer down an' pucker up, I'm sorry to interrupt

It's just I'm constantly on the cusp of tryin' to kiss you

I don't know if you feel the same as I do

But we could be together if you wanted to

If this feelin' flows both ways?”

  
  


Nothing existed anymore. Just Alex and his voice as he sang directly to Miles. Thousands of fans were screaming, clapping, making all sorts of noises, but to Miles, it was absolutely quiet. Just them.

  
  


“(Sad to see you go) Was sorta hopin' that you'd stay

(Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made

For sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day

Crawlin' back to you (crawlin' back to you)

Ever thought of callin' when

You've had a few? (had a few)

'Cause I always do ('cause I always do)

Maybe I'm too (maybe I'm too busy)

Busy bein' yours (bein' yours)

To fall for somebody new

Now, I've thought it through

Crawlin' back to you

If this feelin' flows both ways?

(Sad to see you go) Was sorta hopin' that you'd stay

(Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made

For sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day

(Do I wanna know?) Too busy bein' yours to fall

(Sad to see you go) Ever thought of callin', darlin'?

(Do I wanna know?) Do you want me crawlin' back to you?”

  
  


The song ended and he vaguely became aware of the applause and of Katie, whistling impressively. His throat was dry. His entire mouth was. His breathing was shallow. His legs were motionless.

“Your guitar is still on stage.”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“You’ll need it now,” said Katie. “I’ll bloody deck you if you leave now!”

He had no idea what she was talking about. He barely recalled where he was!

“It’s time for the last song of the last show of this tour,” said Alex, at long last addressing the audience directly. “It’s been a hell of a ride. All of us are very grateful that you loved our music and demonstrated your appreciation by coming to our shows. Thank you very much. For this one, we’d like to welcome our best friend Miles Kane onto stage. Give him the applause he deserves, Paris.”

The cheering turned thunderous.

Katie all but shoved him onto stage.

Alex locked eyes with him again.

Miles walked out on wobbly legs. He dimly remembered where his guitar was. He passed Jamie, who gave his shoulders a quick squeeze. Matt gave him the thumbs up. And Nick, evidently, suppressed a giant grin. He was failing miserably.

As he passed Alex, who casually held onto the mic now, he didn’t know what to do or say. What was he supposed to do or say? Now? On stage? After that kind of song he’d just heard from him! 

Alex stepped between Miles and his guitar. Brought the mic up to his mouth with steady, deliberate moves. “Earlier, when we spoke, I forgot to tell you something.” He was smirking again. “You’re the love of my life, too.”

This time, the silence was real. For an extended moment, a hush fell over the audience. Gasps could be heard. Then, slowly, whistles, catcalls, and applause.

Alex grinned his signature grin of smugness and pure confidence.

Panic overcame Miles as the scope of what Alex had declared sank in. “What have you done? Everybody heard that!” He spoke low, interlaced with pauses and deep breaths. “Are you fucking crazy?”

Now Alex lowered the mic, still addressing him and ignoring the thousands that were calling for his attention. “Here’s what will happen now. Matt will cue us in.” A lazy smirk remained unflinchingly on his face. “We’ll perform _505_ and you’ll play your guitar. I know you’ll perform flawlessly, ‘cause you’re a bloody professional. Much more so than I am. It’ll last roughly two to three minutes. And when the song is over, you have to decide. You can walk off stage and I’ll let you go. Forever. Or you can kiss me. And we’ll be happy. Forever. Just remember, the whole world knows that I love you, now. So, all of your arguments about repercussions and fallout and all that are no longer valid. It all boils down to one question.” He motioned for Matt, who began playing. “Have you got the guts?”

He turned back to the audience. “I’m going back to 505…”

As if in trance, Miles grabbed his guitar, put it on and began to strum. He hit each note blind. Muscle memory or something. His head was elsewhere.

Alex loved him. He’d called him the love of his life. The whole world had heard it. Everything that this deeply private man never cared to discuss or wanted to talk about in public, he’d thrown out for the world to see without a flicker of hesitation.

And he’d done it for him. Because he wanted to be with him.

All he asked for in return was a decision. Miles watched Alex as he sang the song full of energy and conviction and joy and he wondered, in earnest, if he could survive the rest of his life never kissing those beautiful, warm lips ever again. Could he spend a lifetime away from his sweet smile and his kind eyes, his saucy grin and his tender hands? Could he ever get over him? No! Not even if he had an eternity to try!

Alex was his guy. His one and only. His love. Thirteen years ago, his soul had recognized its match and it had clung to him ever since. He couldn’t go another second without him!

Miles dropped the guitar, the sound of it caught Alex’s attention and as he spun around to look, Miles grabbed his face and kissed him with everything he had in him. He kissed him relentlessly, endlessly, until his lungs burned and his lips were sore. And even then he could scarcely let him go. “I love you! I want to be with you!”

“Oh, thank God,” exclaimed Alex, heaving the heaviest sigh of relief. “I’ve never been more scared in my life!” He kissed him back. He clung to him and Miles clung to Alex. He wrapped his arms around him and refused to let go. He couldn’t let go, not for anything in the world. He finally had his Alex back!

.

.

**Spoiler Chapter 31**

#

“Wait, the song ended?” asked Miles, distracted and amused. “We finished it?”

“Not you,” snickered Nick once they reached the backstage area. “Matt and I sang the rest of it. You and Alex were busy dry-humping each other! You are aware that the gig was live-streamed? That means people recorded it. Come tomorrow, the internet will be full of videos and gifs and images of you! That was one for the ages!” He was laughing now.

Alex felt Miles tense before he even saw the anguish that befell his face.

#

“Fucking stop right now,” called Nick, all but spitting out his drink. “Hands above the clothes! You guys are insane!”

Shrugging innocently, drawing a laugh from Miles, Alex got defensive. “If we had been allowed to go home instead…”

“You’re not gonna die if you postpone sex for a few hours!”

“Not sure about that,” muttered Alex into Miles’ ear, biting down on his lobe afterward.

#


	31. Mine

Alex grabbed the short strands of Miles’ hair, pulled and tugged and drove his fingers through them, desperately trying to deepen their contact and finding himself frustrated with the physical limitations of his desire. His tongue licked into Miles’ mouth hungrily and he feasted on the moans and sighs he drew from him. “I missed you terribly.” He’d barely ended the last kiss and already went for the next one.

“And I missed you!” Miles, breathless, with puffy lips and a dazed look, flashed him a smile that blinded the bright spotlights that surrounded them. His hands dug into Alex’s waist and from there on, they made their path around his back, slowly but deliberately, until they came to rest on top of Alex’s butt. His hold was firm and hard and possessive and Alex reveled in it. He melted into his strong arms and had every intention of remaining there. He wanted him to claim him. He liked being Miles’. He wanted to be Miles’.

He finally had him back. Hands reached up, cupped his cheeks. Foreheads touched. They were still on stage. There was an audience that watched in awe, no doubt. But Alex was fresh out of fucks to give. He had them all reserved for Miles. Another kiss. They were getting frantic now. Wild. Untamed. Desperate.

Matt startled them both when he wrapped his arms around their backs. “You need to leave the stage. The show ended, like, five minutes ago!” He was shoving them off to the side. Absentmindedly, Alex waved a half-assed goodbye to the cheering crowd he now heard. But his attention was elsewhere.

“Wait,” asked Miles, distracted and amused. “The song ended? We finished it?”

“Not you,” snickered Nick once they reached the backstage area. “Jamie and I sang the rest of it. You and Alex were busy dry-humping each other! You are aware that the gig was live-streamed? That means people recorded it. Come tomorrow, the internet will be full of videos and gifs and images of you! That was one for the ages!” He was laughing now.

Alex felt Miles tense before he even saw the anguish that befell his face. “Then so be it,” he quickly said and pulled his love’s head in for another kiss. This one was tender and reassuring. “I’ve got you and that’s all that matters to me! I know what Marianne said to you. And what Jamie said to you.” Miles' face was full of surprise and confusion and sooner or later they'd have to spend some time talking about all that had happened, but not tonight. Tonight, Miles just needed to know that Alex loved him. That was the only important thing that needed to be said. “For some ridiculous reason, you got it into your head that you’d do me a favor by staying away from me. But you’re not. Hear me? I need you. Everything else, I want. But I _need_ you!”

“I just don’t want you to regret me one day.”

When, despite his lingering doubts, Miles slipped into his arms, Alex finally relaxed. Miles buried his nose into his neck and breathed him in. Alex held him firmly, stating unequivocally, “I never will! You have to trust me on that one.”

“Here you are!” It was Katie’s turn to wrap herself around the couple and squeeze them tight. “What a show-stopping moment! Aw! So romantic.” She let go and held up her phone. “Say cheese!”

Alex glowered. “Go away.”

Katie’s eyes got big, a challenge appeared in them. “Oh, I get it. Want to be alone right now, huh?” A snort followed. “Forget it, my friend. We’re going out. We’re celebrating your reunion and the end of the tour. You’re coming with us, whether you want it or not!”

Miles put his hand back into Alex’s as he allowed for just the barest amount of space to slip between them, to look at her. “Going out?” The words were coated thickly with disinterest.

A sly grin appeared on Alex’s lips when his gaze met Miles’. Neatly hidden, behind all those emotions of love and happiness and even some deep-sitting shock, Alex had spotted that warm and familiar desire that always lulled them in. And he wanted it front, center and every other place imaginable. “How about tomorrow?” Frisky ideas filled his head and the hand that wasn’t holding onto Miles’s hand, Alex slid down his back, to let it rest unabashedly on Miles’ ass. He was his boyfriend, now. The world knew. That meant he could grope him in public as much as he wanted to. Miles rewarded his move with a wicked grin of approval. Alex turned to Katie. “He and I…can’t you imagine that we—”

“Want to fuck? Be blunt, I don’t mind. I don’t care, either. We’re all off to different parts of the world soon. You can have all the sex in the world then. Tonight, you’re stuck with us.”

“Katie?” Jamie called for her and when she looked at him, Miles tugged on Alex’s hand and quickly pulled him along.

“Come on!”

Laughter from Alex. “Where to?”

“My dressing room. It’s got a lock on the door!” He towed Alex’s hand over his shoulder, brought him closer and in a split second Alex pressed himself against Miles’ back as the latter opened his door.

“Hurry,” rushed Alex, sidetracked, attacking his neck with kisses. His fingertips found their well-known way underneath his shirt. His skin was hot and soft, his body firm. He was everything Alex remembered him to be. “It’s been too long!” He bit his shoulder and laughed breathlessly when Miles shuddered. “Need you!” His hands began to shove his shirt up.

The door opened. Alex maneuvered them inside and had him flattened to the once again closed door in a heartbeat.

“Babe…aah!” Miles let out a wanton cry when Alex's lips went for his throat with scandalous vigor.

“You got five minutes, you hear me?” Katie was on the other side of the door, knocking hard. “Then I’ll pick the lock. Don’t try me. We’re going out!”

“Bloody hell,” grumbled Miles.

Alex deflated into his arms, sank against his body and whined. “Wanna fuck you now.”

“Me too,” pouted Miles, hands still stranded underneath Alex’s button-down shirt.

“Five minutes ain’t enough for sex!” Alex looked up with a sullen turn of his lips.

Miles captured them in a languid kiss. Then raised his brow as his hand slipped into Alex’s pants. “Let me touch you,” he hushed. “A little something to get you through the night.” Miles’ hand circled around him. He dragged his fist up and down his cock.

Alex quickly slipped his hand into Miles’ pants as well, mirroring the act. “A small treat.”

Their movements fell in sync.

“One for the road,” rasped Miles.

Alex laughed before he moaned. “Mmmmh…”

Miles broke their kiss, ravenous that it had become, and let go of Alex’s erection. “We’re going out, right? Can’t have you mess up your pants, then.” He dropped to his knees.

“Oh shit!” Alex lost his hold on reality when Miles’ pliant lips wrapped around his shaft, gliding all the way down to the base. He tangled his fingers in his hair, stroked him gently, encouraged him. “’Tis fucking good,” he drawled, “fuck, yes, babe!”

He came much faster than he wanted to. But it had been too long. He was too needy. Too aroused. Miles sucked every last drop out of him and when he was done, Alex switched them around, and immediately returned the favor.

Miles came just as fast. And Alex was just as thirsty.

-

He sat on the plush velvet couch, or rather he was on the verge of drowning it. Halfway on top him, with one knee bent and wedged between Alex’s thighs, was Miles, kissing him wildly. Alex couldn’t get rid of the grin on his face. He’d never made out like this with anybody. Let alone in public. But an entire camera crew couldn’t get him to let go of Miles. One hand around his neck, the other provocatively on the back of his thigh, to anchor his leg in place, Alex arched up against his man and plunged his tongue as deep into his mouth as he could. Fingers dug into him. Miles was moaning into his mouth. Until he fell on top of him when his arm slipped. Then, he and Alex were a mess of laughter and knotted limbs.

It lasted scarcely a second. Then they resumed kissing, uncomfortable position be damned. Alex’s hand had shifted. It now lingered along Miles’ belt and he felt just naughty enough to wiggle one finger underneath the waist of his pants.

Miles leaned up an inch, smirked. Daring him to go further.

Alex had never been one to resist a good dare. Half his hand disappeared into the pants when—

“Fucking stop right now,” called Nick, all but spitting out his drink. “Hands above the clothes! You are insane!”

Shrugging innocently, drawing a laugh from Miles, Alex got defensive. “If we had been allowed to go home instead…”

“You’re not gonna die if you postpone sex for a few hours!”

“Not sure about that,” muttered Alex into Miles’ ear, biting down on his lobe afterward.

Miles growled. His eyes were dark and lidded and Alex laughed throatily when he sensed his hand as it edged its way between his thighs, sneaking up to his eager bits.

“Okay, that’s it.” Nick sat down next to them. “Hands above clothes AND above the belt!”

“Not fun,” remarked Miles petulantly.

Alex laughed loudly now.

“Damn, you used to hate that shit! Kissing in public and the sort.”

“That was before Miles. Now…”

“He’s so into it,” Katie giggled from the side, squeezing herself between Miles and the edge of the seat. “They both are!”

Miles nuzzled into Alex’s neck. The tip of his tongue traced the outline of his earlobe and Alex let out a shaky breath. When he noticed that Katie had pulled out her phone and was taking pictures of them again, Alex turned sly. If she wanted a picture, he'd gladly deliver one! Cupping the back of Miles’ head and twisting it to dive for the kind of kiss that stripped you bare and fogged up the air, Alex growled. He hadn’t foreseen that Miles would return the favor with equal force and before he knew it, he was on top of him, one hand around his throat and one well on its way into Miles’ pants.

“That’s public indecency,” quipped Jamie.

“But it looks awesome on camera,” laughed Katie.

A low grumble rolled from Miles’ mouth. “Bloody hell!” He wrapped his arms around Alex and anchored him tightly against himself. “Can’t a guy enjoy some kisses in peace?” He pinned Katie down with a look. “I don’t stop you from making out with your husband!”

“That’s so not true,” objected Katie dramatically. “Remember when we all went to see that Star Wars movie? You and Alex were sitting on opposite ends of the row, but were throwing popcorn at me and Jamie the whole damn time!” 

Alex, who was watching amused as Miles and Katie got into it, meanwhile tried his best to wiggle out of Miles’ firm grip. He felt trapped and unable to do anything dirty and really wanted to do something dirty right now. “Lemme go!” 

“Can’t,” countered Miles, holding strong. “Stop squirming. I’m this close to blowing up,” he hissed into Alex’s ear.

A smirk. “Are you?”

Miles locked his arms even tighter. “Don’t you dare!”

He dared for a second, but then relented, sliding down and settling comfortably against Miles' side, nose nuzzled into his neck. “What is that smell?” He'd noticed it before, but he'd had other things on his mind. He leaned in to sniff some more. “A fruit,” he muttered. Sniffed again. “And some flower or…”

“Stop, damnit!” Miles grumbled, arching away. “You're driving me insane!”

Alex giggled. He was so fucking drunk, and not just on liquor. He was bloody wasted on happiness and brimming with joy. “You smell like a fucking fruit cake!”

“Strawberry and vanilla,” murmured Miles, trying to be discreet. “Ran out of body wash and there was this gift basket. Everyone got one or so…and…”

The giggling turned to sly grinning. “That was for women,” Alex pointed out. He'd gotten the basket, too. And he'd promptly re-gifted it to the maid. A swift blush crept up Miles' cheek and Alex grinned harder. “You did not run out of shit, did you?” He inched closer, breathed in more of him. “You used it on purpose!”

Their eyes met. Miles smiled cheekily. “Maybe? Fine, it smelled good!” He reached for his drink, brought it to his mouth.

Alex bit his lobe. “Wondered why your cock tasted like strawberries.”

And Miles choked on his Whiskey, coughing wildly. “Shit!”

Finding himself faced with a fiery glare, Alex bit his lip coyly. “Just an observation.” He stole a quick kiss from him and hovered right in front of his face, coating Miles' trembling lips with his breath. “I rather love strawberries.” Noses touched. “I wouldn't mind another lick. Like, now?”

Eyes pitch black, Miles' hand roamed up his arm, across his shoulder, passed his neck, 'til it settled tenderly against Alex's cheek. Then he kissed him, deep and slow and thoroughly. “We have to get out of here,” whispered Miles, flushed, when he let up.

“Right fucking now,” agreed Alex.

“Guys, we got made.” Matt got up and swallowed the rest of his drink at once. “Bunch of people are recording us from across the club. Let’s go!”.

Jamie held out his hand for Katie. “There’s a private club not far from here. Friend of mine.”

“Perfect,” said Nick.

“Perfect indeed,” hushed Alex as he and Miles were the last to move, taking their time getting up. Hands entwined, they followed the others as they walked through the club, towards the exit, not minding the interested looks of those who'd recognized them one bit. If anything, Alex felt proud. Here he was, with his boyfriend. His Miles. Chest puffed, swagger on point, he smiled at him as he brought their joined hands up to his lips. “Better get used to me showing you off.” He could have sworn he saw him blush.

Outside, near the small bus that they had rented for the night, Miles stopped. “Home?”

“Home,” agreed Alex, letters drawled smoothly, stepping closer, and then pressing himself against Miles’ side. “Guys?”

Matt was the only one who stopped to listen. “Huh?”

“We’re old and tired and ready for bed,” Miles said.

Alex was laughing into his shoulder. “Very ready for bed!”

“Get fucking lost, you horn dogs! You got a day, hear me? We’ll be coming over for dinner tomorrow night. You can cook for us.”

“What? Why?”

“Who needs reasons,” said Matt before disappearing into the bus.

Alex felt Miles’ arms closing around him and, in return, he beamed at him. “Let’s go. But, um…” He waved for a cab. “I was thinking we could go to my place. It’s not that far away, and it’s about time we leave hotel rooms behind, don’t you agree?” Hotels, just like their affair, had been momentary. They lacked personality and symbolized limited time. He was ready for something more meaningful and permanent.

“Your place?”

“You don’t want to?” asked Alex, carefully, hearing hesitation in Miles’ voice.

“No, I do! I’m being weird, don’t take it seriously. It’s only… Feels like a step of some kind.”

He was adorable, thought Alex, smiling softly as he watched him stumbling over his words. “Babe…” His hands reached for Miles’ collar and he all but yanked him against himself. “It is a step.” He leaned in, to whisper, “more than that. I’m ready to take some big leaps.” A sweet kiss. “Will you take ‘em with me?”

Sinking into Alex’s arms, Miles nodded. “I will.”

“Let’s go, then.”

-

Alex flung his keys away, moved his right arm to the side and waved it aimlessly. “Kitchen. There. Somewhere.” The arm resumed its position around Miles' neck, then the left one stretched out toward a different direction. “Living room. Pool.” Miles swallowed his words with a perfectly sultry kiss before tearing Alex's shirt apart. “Bedroom or couch. 'tis all I need to know right now.” Another kiss. His hands went to Alex's ass, groping both cheeks firmly.

“Bedroom,” panted Alex. “Upstairs.” And in a heartbeat, Miles had raised him up and was carrying him up the stairs so fast that he could do little else than laugh.

They tumbled into the bed in a flurry of uncoordinated moves. Shoes, pants, socks, all sorts of items had gotten lost along the way. It was a wild ride that followed. Sweaty and crazy and hurried, and then slow and paced and breathtakingly incredible. Maybe it was because they were drunk, or because it had been so long, or maybe it had always been this way and he'd just never noticed before, but as Alex was tangled up in the sheets, entwined with Miles in the most intimate of ways, he realized with striking clarity that he'd never fucked like that with anybody else, in all of his life.

He was fearless. His head was completely free of concerns and thoughts and anything, really. There was not a whiff of hesitation. No holding back of any kind. No wayward worry about doing the wrong thing or trying to do everything right. There was no part of him that second-guessed if certain moves implied too much or too little. With Miles, he gave himself completely over and he knew that he could because Miles didn't judge.

Grabbing his hair, rolling on top of him, Alex stared deeply into his eyes, sat up and put his free hand right above his lover's heart as he moved on top of him. He felt the fervent drumming against his palm, felt the feverish heat that poured from him as it raised his own temperature. He rolled his hips back and forth at a steady but torturously slow pace, kept a close grip on his attention until his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he lost all hold on reality. “Fuck me,” he begged, out of breath, with a hoarse voice and little restraint. “Fuck me, babe!”

And Miles did. His hands dug into Alex's hips, held 'em there and he raised his own, meeting his pace, then setting a new one. Infinitely more pleasurable. “Harder,” moaned Alex.

Miles sat up, flipped them over and thrust into him as hard and as fast as he could, driving both them to insanity.

-

Miles laid on the couch in the living room, on his stomach, arms crossed beneath his face, tired and beat. They'd gotten next to now sleep at all the night before and as Alex leaned against the mantle of his fireplace, putting a picture frame squarely on top, dead center, he chuckled when he heard him yawn loudly. “Go back to bed if you're tired!”

“Your parents will drop by soon.” He stifled another yawn with his palm.

“Sometime today. They might not get here for a few more hours.” Alex nudged the frame an inch to the left. “How's that? Good?”

Laughter from Miles. “I can't believe you printed out a screenshot from last night's gig and framed it!”

“This place needed a picture of us, didn't it? And I like this one.” A grin lit his face. “You're gazing very dreamily at me.”

“I always do,” said Miles, not the least bit embarrassed about that.

Alex couldn't fight the smile that broke out into full force. “True.”

As his gaze wandered around the large and finely decorated living room, a slight frown appeared on Miles' forehead. “You don't have other pictures.” He kept looking.

Alex made its way to the couch, climbed on top of Miles' back and spread on top of it. He pecked his neck and leaned down, sighing contently. “Not one. Got a ton of pictures, I mean. But I never put any of 'em up or framed 'em. I'm changing that, though,” he said decidedly. “It's time I do.”

“Oh?”

“Don't laugh, okay? But…before last night…” He sighed, struggling as he pondered whether or not he should really admit it. “When I spent my nights alone in the hotel…there's this tv psychologist show that I watched. Do not laugh,” he warned again, for good measure.

Miles reached around his back and grabbed Alex's hand, pulling it underneath his face. “Swear,” he promised. He kissed his hand, then.

Alex snuggled deeper against him. “The tv doc said that displaying pictures at one's home is a confession of some sort. Like, you're publicly admitting that you care about things. I mean, I got some framed images of my parents. And of me and some people I've met, like music legends and this guy who made me this insane custom guitar.”

“That sooner or later I will get my hands on,” quipped Miles.

“Try and fail, baby!” Another quick kiss. “It's time I put up some images of my friends. And of us.”

“We should take a proper one, then.” Miles wiggled and shifted to grab his phone. He extended his arm, twisted his head to grin at Alex and swiftly took a selfie. “Well?” He showed him.

“Awful!” Alex took the phone. “Let me try.” He leaned down, kissed him and snapped the picture.

Miles inspected it. “We look weirdly squishy.”

“Right?”

“We should let Katie take one tonight.”

Alex roared with sudden laughter. “She'll put us in matching leather pants and give us makeovers!”

“You could certainly use one,” remarked Penny Turner from the doorway. “You look in dire need of some ironed shirt, dear!”

A low and intense rumble rolled from Alex's throat as he sat up. Miles followed suit. “Mother.” His father hovered behind her. “Dad. You guys didn't use the doorbell.”

“You gave us a key,” she reminded him.

“For emergencies.” This was neither the first time nor the last time they'd have that discussion, he knew. “Never mind. Mom, dad,” he said as he got up, reaching for Miles' hand. “You already know Miles, but he's my boyfriend now. Baby, these are mom and dad.”

“Also known as Penny and David,” grinned Alex's father.

They walked into the living room and as Alex went to hug his father, Penny stared at Miles in utter shock. “Oh no. He's rubbing off on you!” Her hand went to the sleeve on Miles' sweater. “Holes.”

“Uh…” Miles winced awkwardly while Alex bit back a grin. “My clothes are at the hotel. I actually borrowed this from Alex—”

“Thank God,” exclaimed Penny with a massive sigh of relief. “Dear,” she told him, squeezing his hand. “I've seen you a few times and I've always admired your proper outfits. Never a stray thread out of place. Don't let my boy corrupt you, alright?”

If anyone was corrupting anybody, Miles was corrupting him. Alex tossed him a dirty wink.

“Tsk, Alexander, stop that!” Penny caught the wink mid-air. “Your parents are present! It was bad enough that we had to watch last night.” She turned back to Miles. “Don't get me wrong, I'm all about a good, romantic moment. But…” She shook her head as she leaned closer, lowering her voice. “That was plenty of groping in front of cameras,” she admonished.

Miles blushed profusely.

Alex succumbed to laughter. “Get used to it,” he warned her, amused by her shocked expression.

The doorbell rang and before Alex could even react, Miles was already on his way. “I'll get it,” echoed from the hallway. A moment later, a wild array of laughter and voices filled the formerly quiet house.

“Look who showed up early,” announced Miles, slipping his hand into Alex and cuddling up against his side.

The rest of the Monkeys, plus Katie, barreled in and as everyone was busy greeting Alex's parents, Alex tugged on Miles' hand and pulled him to the side. “Full house, huh? Think anyone would notice if we slipped away? Your hotel room seemed awfully alluring right about now.”

“They'd never forgive us.”

“I know.” He leaned in for a kiss and made no attempt to be subtle or hasty. Instead, he let his tongue be wicked and languid. “'Tis going to be a long day!”

Another yawn broke free from Miles. “I really wanted to take a nap, though.”

With a chuckle, Alex curled his arms around him and pecked his cheek. “Come on. Maybe we get lucky and they all leave again in an hour or so…”

By the time everyone left, it was almost midnight and as Miles stood in the doorway, chatting with Matt and Nick, Alex gave Jamie a tight hug. “Thank you for everything. For being my friend and for not giving up on us!” For the first time ever, since their very first tour, Alex wasn't sad or anxious about the fact that it was over. He wasn't troubled about the future or restless about the oncoming uncertainty. For the first time ever, he was looking forward to some time off. But being less busy with himself, coincidentally, allowed for his mind to become conscious about other things that he'd never before noticed. For example, having to say goodbye to friends was something that was actually difficult. He squeezed Jamie a little tighter. “You're my brother, you know that, right? And I promise I'll make more of an effort to be one to you as well!”

“I know that,” assured Jamie, returning the hug with equal strength. “Promise you and Miles will visit soon.”

“We will.”

“Before next year,” pressed Jamie.

Alex chuckled. “Promise.”

They let up. Everyone got into the cab and it left soon after.

When Alex closed the front door, Miles was leaning against the wall next to it, a soft smile on his lips. Alex snuggled immediately into his embrace.

“You look sad,” whispered Miles.

“Not sad, no. Just…it's been a hell of a ride, this one.” He felt emotional. He couldn't deny that. “It's the fifth big tour that we did. Next to a bunch of little trips and stuff like that.” Alex let go enough to meet his eyes. “It's the first time I don't feel left behind,” he confessed. “Everyone always left to go back to their girlfriend or wife and kid and – I mean, I had girlfriends, usually, but now, with you, I finally have my person to come home to.”

“So do I,” admitted Miles.

Alex heard the rawness and that vulnerability in his voice and he reached up, brushed his thumb over his cheek and leaned in for a gentle kiss.

“You don't have any more plans to go home, right? Or worse, go to the States?” He was almost certain, but Alex still needed to hear it.

Miles dipped his head forward for an equally sweet kiss. “I am home. Home is where you are.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Alex took his hand and tugged him away from the wall. “Let's go to bed, then.”

“For sex,” asked Miles, curious.

“For sleep,” stated Alex, smiling.

Miles let out a deep sigh, mixed with laughter. “Thank God! I can barely keep my eyes open anymore!”

.  
  


.

** Note: **

Usually, I'd put in a little spoiler for the next chapter at this point. But, there's not going to be another chapter. Just the epilogue. And then, the story will be over. It's been a vastly gratifying experience to write it for you! You've been exceptionally kind and loving and warm with your words of encouragement and I can't thank you enough for that. 

But I quite like writing Milex stories, I've found. And there's a new one right around the corner, ready to make its way to this site. Here's a bit of a spoiler for the new one, in case you'd like to know. 

_"Miracle Aligner"_

_Miles is the owner of a very successful dating agency called 'Miracle Aligner' that made its success by releasing an app. He's got a proper swagger, a sleek way of getting things done and he's married to a beautiful woman. Oh, and he's gay. Married for PR. Life is strange sometimes, right? Here's another thing about Miles. His mom is best friends with Penny Turner and they love to meddle with their kids' lives._

_Because Penny wants nothing more than grandchildren, she enlists Pauline, who sets her son up to meet with Alex in order to find him a wife._

_Alex, who runs a successful business of consulting and occasionally selling companies, needs his life to run flawlessly in order to pursue even the most conservative clients. Nobody knows that he's gay. Not even his parents. And not only is he gay. He's also crushing hard on this very straight, very married man that his mother made him meet._

_Spoiler Chapter One:_

“Slow down,” interrupted Alex. “Feels like you’re interviewing me for your app or something. Strip club is fine.” A chuckle. “What does that say about me, huh?”

“Two things, possibly.”

“Oh yes?”

“Option a, you’re into cheap women and if that’s the case, you’ll be best served not to meet with me, ‘cause that’s not the kind of dating service we supply.”

“What’s option b?”

“You really don’t give a fuck about meeting somebody new.”

“You got me there,” admitted Alex with a laugh. 

“In that case, as your dating adviser, tell me why.”

“Dating adviser? You sound like a psychologist! But sure, I’ll play. Let me get comfortable on my couch real quick and get into my role.” 

Miles head rustling sounds and chuckled, imagining this faceless man laying down on his fancy leather couch, wearing a mocking smile and little else. 

_ Damnit! _

_Bad Miles! _


	32. Epilogue

Epilogue

Alex stood in front of the large table that was meticulously decorated with flower petals and candles and some other stuff that he was sure had a name as well and he couldn’t deny that somebody had put in a really big effort to arrange all of this. But, honestly, the only thing on this table that truly mattered was the enormous cake that he couldn’t wait to get his paws on. Damned wedding! Where was the bloody couple and why did it take ‘em so long to cut into that piece of creamy perfection?

Squeezed to his side, both arms around his neck, was Miles, eyes wide and full of wonder. “Alex, look at it! It’s five layers tall! Too bad it’s vanilla.” 

Head whipping to his side, Alex stared at him. “How do you know that?” Keeping Miles firmly anchored against him, he leaned toward the mountain of cream, tried to take a sniff but smelled nothing. His focus returned to Miles, whose eyes were sparkling mischievously, sprinkled with just the barest amount of guilt. “Did you…?”

“Taste it?” Miles brought his lips to Alex’s ear, brushing them against it. “Don’t tell anybody. Swiped my finger along the back of it. You can’t even see it and it was barely enough to have a proper taste!”

He chuckled at his cheeky apology. “Naughty, Miles.” The chuckle morphed into a breathless laugh when Miles kissed the spot right behind his lobe. “Stop it, we’re at a wedding!” 

“So? Isn’t this where it’s supposed to be all about love?”

“Love, not foreplay.” Miles’ tongue darted out, licked his lobe. Alex shuddered. “Stop!”

“You gotta let go of me, then. Or I’ll keep going.” 

What a mean decision to make! Alex grumbled as his arm slipped away from his waist.

Miles stayed in place, plastered to his side and kissing his neck. Alex felt him grin as his lips pressed against his skin. “On second thought, I think I’ll keep going anyway.” Another kiss to the curve of Alex’s shoulder. Then Miles let up for a moment. “By the way, when we get married, we’ll need a different cake. Like, a layered one as well. But different layers. A fruity one. A chocolate one. One with gummy bears,” he said, playfully nipping the lobe.

“That’s it.” Alex twisted out of his arms, glaring at his boyfriend. He was on the verge of sporting a bloody erection. “Weddings make you frisky!” He quickly glanced around to see if people were watching. Thank God, none were. “We can hold hands. But stay away from my neck!” 

“I can try.” Miles held his hand out. Alex took it warily. “I will do my very best to play nice. I can’t make any promises, though.” His lids lowered, and his voice turned thick. “Feel free to punish me when I misbehave.” A saucy wink flew his way.

A low, rumbling groan made its way from Alex’s throat. And it was only then that Miles’ words from before registered in his head. “Wait…what? When did we decide to get married?” He knew for a fact they weren’t engaged because he had every intention of popping the question tonight! 

Miles was undeterred, barely paying greater attention. As though they were discussing the weather. “We’re together, like, a year now? Isn’t it inevitable that we’ll marry sooner or later?”

That man had the romantic streak of a donkey. 

One didn’t just conclude to get married. One asked. Properly. Ring and all. But he couldn’t tell that he’d planned to do exactly that later on. So, Alex played dumb, instead. “Inevitable?”

Miles briefly glanced at him, vastly fascinated by the cake, still. He shrugged. “Or not?”

“No?”

“We’re together, aren’t we?” An unperturbed expression lingered on his face. “I’m happy with you. I don’t need a ring. It’s up to you.” 

Yep. A big, fat donkey. 

Alex turned around and took in the great ballroom that was slowly beginning to fill with guests. He spotted a few of their friends and waved over, ready to drag Miles away from the cake, especially when he spotted the dirty look on his face. He shot him a quick warning. “Don’t you dare sideswipe that cake again!”

“Keep your voice down! Want me to get caught?” He gave the cake a hungry look. “I’m not doing it, relax. Oh, before I forget, Katie called. She said she’d love to take that dresser and that it would fit perfectly into their new guest room. They’ll drop by tomorrow to pick it up.”

“What dresser?” Alex asked, suddenly bordering on annoyed. He tried desperately to keep up with this conversation as it wandered from kissing to marriage to furniture while making a few odd turns along the road. 

Miles rolled his eyes. “The one in the bedroom? The _Scandinavian_ one? You said you ordered a new one, to match the new bed.”

Yes, he remembered that. “Where does Katie fit into that story?”

Miles gave him a blank look. “We don’t need two dressers in the bedroom. She asked what we’d do with the one we had and I told her she could have it if she wanted to.”

“Miles!” Alex couldn’t believe it. Crossing his arms, he cocked his hip and glared at him. 

“Come on! The house is stuffed as it is. What would you have done with it?”

“Put it in the garage. I wanted to put all my tools in there.”

“The dresser, Alex?”

“It’s a valid place for storage!” Oh, he hated it when Miles did that. Ever since moving in together nine months ago, Alex had come to see that in the decade that preceded their pre-marital bliss, not all arguments had been meritless! His man truly had a way that was grating at times. Taking everything in stride and never thinking twice about something, Miles regularly wreaked havoc in his formerly quiet and well-run life. Like a bloody tornado. “Could have asked me first!”

“What for?” Completely missing Alex’s increasingly agitated state of mind, Miles took his hand, entwined their fingers and pecked his lips. “You’d have told me not to do it.”

“Yes.”

“That’s why I didn’t ask.”

A snort.

“Tsk, babe! Just get a box for those tools or a proper shelf or something. Or toss ‘em away, it’s not like you actually repair stuff.”

Oh, that was uncalled for. He huffed indignantly. “I’m busy being a rock star!” 

“And I’m not complaining. But we don’t need a garage that’s overflowing with identical screwdrivers when you never use ‘em anyway.”

“It’s not overflowing and I would have gotten rid of the unnecessary ones when organizing them all neatly into the dresser!” As he considered going for the kill and letting him know that the garage would be a lot emptier if Miles got rid of the two dozen pairs of boots that he stored there but hadn’t worn once since moving in with him, Alex realized something startling. They were slowly turning into their parents! How often had he witnessed his parents arguing about stuff just like this! Shaking his head, he began to laugh.

Miles’ right brow moved up. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” He took a step toward him, put his hand around his neck and smacked a big kiss squarely on his lips. “I love you.”

“You’re weird. I love you, too.”

“Come on, let’s grab a seat.”

  
  


“Would you stop about the dresser,” grumbled Miles, pulling harshly on the bow around his neck. “It’s fucking ridiculous, alright? Where the hell are we, anyway? I thought you were tired, that’s why you wanted to leave.” Miles got out when the driver opened the back door, waiting patiently. 

“Concert arena, here, in Paris. You don’t recognize it?”

“It’s midnight, Alex. It’s dark. The streetlights are turned off.” Miles glanced around, confused. “Why are we here?” The driver got back into the car, then drove off. “What the hell is going on?”

Alex had spent the last thirty minutes deliberately rambling on about the bloody dresser, just to distract Miles from noticing their true destination. He reached for his hand now. “Come on. Get a move on!” 

Miles remained in place. “I’m not taking a single step until you tell me what’s going on!” 

“You are coming with me right now,” Alex stated unequivocally, leaving no room for the discussion he knew Miles was dying to have. “If you don’t, I will personally shred your favorite pair of loafers.” He brought their linked hands up to his lips and kissed the back of Miles’ before smirking. “Your choice.”

A few seconds ticked by and Miles waited. Another one of those stare-offs that they got into on a regular basis. Until, after a big and impressive roll of his eyes, he caved. “Seriously. I’m waiting for an explanation!” 

“It’ll all become clear in a moment.” It completely amazed him that Miles had not the slightest clue. He was still mumbling as Alex unlocked the side entrance. 

“Why do you have a key?”

“For reasons,” he quipped, increasingly amused by Miles’ flaring temper. 

“Are we breaking in? Should I warn our lawyer?”

“No need.” The door opened. “Voila. This way.” He took his hand once more and as they ventured closer and closer to the big reveal, Alex began to notice his nerves once again. It was laughable. Miles had more or less declared that he’d marry him. There was really no reason for him to worry about the answer. But he still hoped Miles would appreciate Alex’s grand gesture. And since this was the only time in his life that he planned on proposing to a person, he was slightly concerned if, maybe, he’d gone too far. 

Jamie, who’d helped him set everything up, had certainly spent a good portion of that time laughing his ass off. 

“You realize what day it is, right?” Smiling at him, Alex bumped his shoulder playfully. 

“Friday?” Miles met his eyes, lost. 

“Really?”

“Is it Saturday, already?”

Alex took a deep and calming breath. Unbelievable! “One year ago today, you and I had sex for the first time. We got together, a year ago. Exactly a year ago.”

“No, we got together in late November, here, in this arena, when you declared your love for me. Between Rome and Paris, we were broken up for a bit.” Miles pecked his lips. “Aw, baby, did you bring me here to celebrate?” His face turned soft and emotional at the prospect and Alex felt him sliding up against his side. “Alex…you’re so sweet!”

Yes, he was sweet. Also, he had a point to make, so he turned toward him. “We got together in Rome. We were apart for a while, but not broken up. You still loved me and I still loved you. And when had sex in between!” 

“Baby, I’m far from proud of it, but I did break up with you in Berlin!”

“You pressed pause, that’s not breaking up.” 

“Why is it so important, anyway? What difference do a few days make, huh?” Miles moved further into his arms. “We made it in the end. What’s waiting in there? Tell me.”

“Donkey.”

“What?”

“Close your eyes.” 

“Are you mad now?”

“Can’t you ever just do what I ask you to do?”

“For crying out loud!” Miles closed his eyes, squeezed them shut and leaned in to present his closed eyes to him. “Happy?”

Alex kissed him quickly. “Perfect.” He put his hand on his back to guide him further. “Remember last week when the credit card company called to ask if I really wanted to buy a hundred thousand bright red guitar picks and I told you somebody stole my card and probably played a prank on me?”

Miles took careful steps forward and a vague nod rolled from his head. “What about it?”

“I lied. Don’t you fucking dare open your eyes right now. I also lied a few weeks ago when we flew to London and I told you I was recording with the band. We went shopping instead.” The worst memory of his life, no doubt. Buying a ring for Miles while his entire band sat behind him, gushing, joking and commenting nonstop! 

Alex glanced at Miles, chuckling. “No, no, no. Eyes closed.”

He felt him squeeze the shit out of his hand. “Baby, what…why…bloody talk to me!” 

“A bit more, then we have to take some steps. Be careful! I also lied earlier, when I said I was tired. I’m not. I mean, you can probably feel that my hands are sweaty! Gotta be honest with you, I’m nervous right now. In my head, this all seemed like a genius idea, but now that I’m here, actually seeing it and realizing the scale of it all, I fear it’ll paint me as some type of lunatic romantic who’s got a little too much time on his hands. Watch it, here are the steps.”

Miles proceeded carefully. “Alex…” His voice was shaky now. “What are you doing?”

“Right now? I’m debating whether you should stand or, maybe, sit down. I don’t want you to drop when you open your eyes.”

“I’m fine,” he stated, impatient and restless. “Lemme see!”

“One more second.” Alex took a deep breath, adjusted the bow around his neck, and reached into his pocket to pull out a small, velvet box. Then he sank down on one knee. “You may open your eyes.”

Miles did and promptly dropped the floor, to his knees, in front of Alex. His mouth hung open wide and his eyes roamed the entire stage, back and forth, shocked and jittery. “There…are…” He drew in a quivery breath. “Like…a million guitar picks around us. And candles.”

“One hundred thousand two hundred and ninety-one guitar picks in cardinal red. It's an odd number, don't ask me why. And those candles are battery-powered LED candles, since you don’t like fire.”

“Battery pow–” The words died on his lips as his gaze landed on Alex. Then they moved lower, to his hand. To the box. “Is that…?”

“For you? That will depend on your answer.” 

“Yes!”

Alex began to shake with laughter. Slowly, the worries that he pretended not to have for the last couple of weeks, the fears that he told himself he didn’t experience, and the nerves that he believed weren’t flaring up all disappeared. He breathed a little easier, cupped Miles’ shellshocked face with one palm and gently brushed his thumb over his cheek. “You really can’t help yourself, can you? Will you let me ask, first?”

“Sorry, okay.” He nodded quickly. “Ask ahead. But I will say yes! Just so you know. No need to worry! Okay? ‘Cause I’m madly in love with you and you’re the man of my dreams and I absolutely want to spend the rest of my life with you!”

“Good,” grinned Alex, endlessly amused by his rambling man, who made proposing damn near impossible! “But I was going to ask you if you wanted to take a trip to the zoo with me tomorrow.”

“Huh?”

“You’re the craziest, wildest, most infuriating, annoying, rashest, smuggest, cockiest and most insane person I ever met in my entire life! You’re the last person I ever thought I’d fall for and you’re the first one I did.” He let go of Miles’ face, to open the little box. Damnit, now he got all mushy and emotional after all! “Baby, I love you. I want to spend all of my life with you. And I know you already said yes, but I’m going to ask you anyway. Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” 

Miles flung himself into Alex’s arms, pressed his lips to those of him and it took a long while until either one let go. There was groping and moaning and frantic touching. Alex paused briefly, to take a deep breath and gather some oxygen. “I got you a ring as well.” He was still holding onto it. 

“Right!” Miles chuckled, keeping his face as close as possible to Alex’s. 

Alex slid the simple golden band around his finger. “It’s got the date of our first time engraved. Whether you want or not, that’s when we started. And since you and I are forever, it’s the only one that matters.” Another kiss. “There’s a bed behind you.” 

“A—” Miles looked over his shoulder. “You got a bed onto this stage? Alex, that’s fucking insane! I can’t believe you went through all of this trouble!”

“Well, you only get engaged once, so…” Alex got up slowly and brought Miles with him, keeping him neatly against his body. He noticed his now fiancé's watery eyes and held him closer. “Are you crying?”

“No!” Miles hid his face in the crook of Alex's shoulder. “Maybe.”

His hand moved soothingly up and down his back. “It's happy crying, right?”

Miles nodded. “Very happy crying.”

Bringing his lips to his cheek, Alex chuckled softly. His hand wandered from his back, along his upper arm, down, to his fingers, which he took hold of while extending their arms linked arms. “Remember this melody?” He began to hum the fine notes of Strauss' _Blue Danube_. “I'll lead.”

A breathless chortle vibrated against Alex's neck as Miles fell into the steps that Alex set. “This time,” allowed Miles.

Both laughed at that.

  
** THE END **

**I love you all for your words and support and kudos. Thank you so much! ❤️**


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